Guardian Angel
by Tarafina
Summary: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures. :Chloe/Bruce:
1. Chapter I

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,807  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**_Guardian Angel_**

**I**.

No matter where she went, danger followed, and as if she had her own little "Help Me," sign, a hero was quick to appear as well. So when Chloe Sullivan made the move from her beloved Metropolis to Gotham City, it wasn't such a surprise that she was mugged and saved on her very first day.

"I just don't see why you have to be there and not here," Lois whined over the phone.

"Because _there _I'm underappreciated, whereas _here_ I have the opportunity to become most appreciated," she replied, rolling her eyes.

Lois sighed. "But _I _appreciated you, isn't that _enough_?"

"No Lo, it's not. Look, I know you're feeling abandoned and I'm sorry, really, but this is something I have to do for myself. Look on the bright side, you still have Clark!"

"Your answer to my current abandonment is that I have _Smallville_? What have you being _smoking _since you got to Gotham?" She exaggerated a sigh. "Already into the drug scene, huh? Well, I think that's just a sign that you need to come back!"

Chloe grinned. "Seriously Lois, I'm not coming back. I _just _got here."

"And you apparently have a _drug problem_!" she claimed.

"I do not! I'm just saying, you and Clark have been getting closer and now that I'm not there I'm sure there'll be even bigger possibilities for you two to finally..." Her brows rose for emphasis despite the fact that Lois couldn't see her.

She made a choked sound of derision. "Finally what? Kill each other?"

Chloe snorted. "I was thinking more of relieve the sexual tension between you."

"Sexual what?" She laughed, a little too loud to be simple disagreeance. "Uh, seriously, cuz... Now I'm starting to worry you really _are _doing drugs. Sex and Clark don't even belong in a sentence together!"

Shaking her head, Chloe glanced up and down the road before crossing the street. "Whatever you say. Look, it's late and I have a hundred and one boxes to unpack. So I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"

"Call me tomorrow and give me the time your flight home arrives," she ordered.

"Goodnight Lois," she sing-songed before hanging up. Pocketing her cell phone, she smiled to herself. She loved her cousin, but really, it was just time to set out on her own. Nothing against Lois, but Chloe needed her own name and her own paper. The Gotham Gazette had been calling with offers and she finally gave in. First day here and she wasn't planning on packing it in that easy.

_Click_. She paused for a moment in her steps, her eyes thinning. She could've sworn she heard something. Shaking her head, she looked down the road to her intended destination, the grocery bag in her hand swinging side to side as she hurried up. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could relax. _Click_. There it was again. That noise. She turned around abruptly, searching for any sign that somebody else was out walking around, but there was no one. The city seemed to roll up the welcome mat as soon as night fell. She dug her hand into her purse and fingered the can of mace there before quickening her steps.

_Click, click click_... It was louder, more pronounced now. _Clickclickclickclick_...

Her breathing picked up but she refused to freak out, refused to scream or break into a run. Home was close; so close. Safety and locked doors. She knew Gotham had a bad rep and maybe she was just hearing things. Maybe it was nothing; just her mind playing tricks. She was alone, walking the streets of a strange city; of course she was a little unnerved.

Then she felt the hand grab her shoulder and yank her backwards. The sudden force made her lose her grip on the can of mace and she tumbled backwards, landing harshly on her butt. She stared up, wide-eyed at the man in front of her, dressed heavy in dark clothing and playing with a lighter. "Gimme you money, y-your jewelry, and uh, and whatever else I can pawn!"

The fear faded abruptly. He was just a kid. "Not happening, Junior."

"What? Bitch, do you know who you're dealing with?" He looked around nervously, searching for any sign that people had noticed what he was doing.

"A little kid with a bad idea in his head." She stood up easily and crossed her arms. "I've got all of ten bucks on me and these earrings are fake. Now if you'll get out of my way, I'll give you a head start before I call the cops."

The clicking stopped and she glanced down at the lighter for only a moment. He looked up at her, shaking his head as if he was sad and she furrowed her brow in confusion. Until the large group of similarly dressed people stepped out of the alleyway ahead of her, one of them tisking. "What'd I tell you? JB ain't got it in him. Can't even take on a mouthy little bitch."

Chloe swallowed tightly.

They circled her, the leader stepping forward his head tipped to one side and a blade held in his hand. "You gonna let her talk to you like that, JB?" He reached forward and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. "She don't know what these streets are like, I think she needs to learn her lesson."

Sneering, Chloe glared. "Yeah and you need to learn what manners are." Quickly, she kicked her leg out, catching him easily between the legs. His hand loosened and she stood up straight, not pausing as she balled her hand up into a tight fist and aimed it directly at his nose. When he cried out in pain, she grinned. Good. She took another swing, hoping to knock him out of the way, but it barely connected with his chin before she was being held back by a few of the others, clamping her arms behind her back and avoiding her legs as they kicked furiously.

Wiping his bloody nose, the ring leader stepped up to her once more. "Kill her," he ordered.

Nobody moved at first before suddenly everybody seemed to have a weapon of their choice.

"No." He turned around and pointed at the little punk who jumped her in the first place. "Get her JB."

He stepped forward, unsure of himself and Chloe wondered if she was the only one who noticed his shaking shoulders or his slight sniffle. He wasn't like them and this was the one step that would either make or break him. She hoped he decided to make the right decision, more because she really did not want her cousin to stand at her grave and say "I told you so," but also because it seemed this was one of those moments. Here was a boy who could either choose to try and live a better life or follow in the steps Gotham's slowly dilapidating world had offered.

"Go on! Slit her fuckin' throat!"

Chloe winced, staring ahead at the boy in front of her. God, he couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen.

He stared at her, his eyes littered with tears. "I'm sorry," he mouthed.

She let out a shaky breath and clenched her jaw. She wiggled, trying to get free, but nobody's arms were loosening around her, they held her legs and arms all in place, waiting for her to get it. She closed her eyes; she didn't want to look as it happened. She'd felt pain before, knew it well, and she was tired of going through it. But as she waited for the blade to slice easily through her flesh, it never came. She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the boy in front of her, shaking his head. He dropped the blade, took a step back and before he could even say he wasn't going to do it, they were interrupted.

Falling from the sky like an avenging angel stood a man dressed head to toe in black Kevlar, sporting a scowl and a fierce growl as he landed in the center. "Let her go," he ordered and she immediately felt the arms around her fall away. But just as quickly, they were all rushing her savior, weapons at the ready. "Go," he told her.

She stepped back, eyes wide, still in shock from what she'd seen.

"GO!" he yelled before he was brought into the fight.

She felt a tugging at her arm and turned to see the boy who started this whole mess. "Come on, we gotta get outta here." She found herself running with him, down this street or that, away from the violence and the near death experience.

He brought her around the block and down an alley and before she knew it, she could see the back of her building. She made him stop before he kept going and he leaned against the fence next to her, trying to catch his breath. She wasn't sure what to think or if she should thank him. After all, he nearly got her killed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

She looked over at him. "You don't really seem like the type..."

"I'm not." He pulled his hood down and let her see his face. "If you wanna call the cops, I get it... It was my first time doin' anything like this and..." He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Definitely my last."

She nodded before curiosity got the best of her. "Who was that? Back there? The Kevlar suit guy?"

"Batman," he replied, staring at her like she'd asked the dumbest question ever. "You must be new."

"Just got here today actually."

"Right... Uh, he's sorta like Gotham' hero, I guess. Depending on the day. Some call him menace, others call him hero. All I ever saw was him beating up crooks and saving people." He shrugged. "I gotta go. They find me, I'm dead."

She nodded. "Well... Thanks for not killing me, I guess."

He lifted a shoulder. "I couldn't have." He sighed. "Later."

He ran off down the alley and Chloe walked toward her apartment building, using her key to get in through the back door. She climbed the stairs to the third floor and went inside, dropping the grocery bag on the counter. She locked the dead bolt, the chain and the push lock before checking all of her windows to make sure none were open or unlocked before she finally collapsed on the couch in her living room. When she looked outside, the boys that jumped her were scattered; some knocked out, others no longer anywhere to be seen, and the Batman, as JB had called him, was long gone.

Running her hands through her hair, Chloe sighed. What the hell had she gotten herself into?


	2. Chapter II

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman Crossover  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,199  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**_Guardian Angel_**

**II**.

Work was boring. She liked the paper, but it seemed like everyone who worked there was just waiting for the day to end. It wasn't busy or bustling like The Daily Planet and she didn't like feeling as if she was just standing there. After checking the building out, finding where everything went and who everyone was, she got to work. She wanted to bring to light the problems in the city instead of hide away in her apartment like everyone else. She wanted to be able to walk down the street without worrying that somebody might jump out and kill her in some gang initiation and one day she would.

She was never one to stand back and let the work be done; she set out to find everything she could on Gotham. She learned the names of every crook ever put in the system, every mobster, every politician, every dirty cop. She read up on Batman and all the things he did or didn't do, good or bad. She learned who everyone was in one very long day, without getting out of her seat for more than a cup of coffee. She wanted to know Gotham like the back of her hand so she could turn it around as best she could. It was midnight before she left the Gazette and she was tired, cranky and brimming with knowledge. Without a car, she found herself walking home once more. Apparently not even cab drivers would come out at night.

She was nearly home when she felt a sudden breeze at her neck. She turned around swiftly, mace at the ready, only to lower the can and tip her head. "Do you usually sneak up on unsuspecting civilians? Because I got the feeling that _wasn't _your MO."

Batman simply stared at her a moment. "Why aren't you at home?" he growled.

"I'm on my way there now," she said, pointing her thumb back at the apartment building.

"It's late."

"Hence the darkness. I'm aware." She nodded. "I have a feeling you didn't just come to tell me that it's night time. I have eyes for those kinds of things."

He scowled. "It's not safe at night."

"Noticed that too, but thanks for the heads up." She sighed, crossing her arms. "Anything else I should know or is there a handy flyer on the do's and don'ts of Gotham I can pick up somewhere?"

His jaw flexed beneath his mask. Odd, that she found he was attractive considering most of him was covered in a black body suit, even if it did define some very appealing aspects of him. All she could see was his mouth - nice lips, straight, white teeth - and his eyes, dark and brooding with long lashes. Still, the growl made her stomach tighten and the sharp angles of his suit made him appear larger than life and oh so dangerous in a most sexy way.

"Get home. Lock your door."

She saluted him. "Yes sir." She turned on her heel, walking away without a backward glance. She smiled to herself, still. Even if the rest of the city was still debating about whether or not he was good, she knew for sure.

OoO

It was back to work the next day though, which was far less exciting than being cornered by a man in a bat suit.

"Sullivan! There's a gala Sunday. I want you there! Hobnob and get us some juicy dirt!" she heard her editor holler from his office across from hers.

She paused, lifting a brow of disagreement. "Uh, sir, not to argue, but don't you think my talents could be used elsewhere?"

"Of course they can. But Julie's out for the week and I need a fluff piece," he growled with frustration. "So get yourself a nice dress, learn how to play nice, and convince Bruce Wayne to give you an interview."

With a sigh, she slumped into her seat. "Champagne, anyone?" she muttered to herself.

OoO

She managed to get home before dark, figuring she'd avoid the whole "safety" spiel from her current hero stalker and picked up some Thai before she locked the door behind her and grabbed her phone, dialing Lois' cell.

"What do you _mean_ you're going shopping without me?" she exclaimed, aghast.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Just that. I have to go to some gala on Sunday and nothing in my closet will meet those standards." She sighed. "If it's any consolation, I wish you were here."

"Yeah, well... It's not."

She rolled her eyes. "How's Clark?"

"How should I know? Smallville's here one second and gone the next. I should put a tracking device on him," she muttered.

Chloe chuckled. "So I ran into someone interesting."

She knew she peaked her interest then. She could just imagine her sitting forward with a "Tell me more," expression on her face.

"Oooh, is he hot? Spill."

"He's a bat."

There was a pause. "Huh?"

"Batman. He's the resident hero over here. Dresses in Kevlar and saves the innocent with his dark scowl and black cape."

"You're _kidding_?"

She cocked a brow. "I have a lot of imagination but I'm not sure I could cook this one up!" She grinned. "He saved me from a small mob the other day... Nothing big. There was talk of slit throats, but as you can hear, I'm fine."

"You were _attacked _by a mob and you didn't _call _me?"

"Yeah, Lo, because I'm sure you would've caught the next flight out and saved me." She frowned. "Did you not hear the rest? I'm fine due to Batman. Ran into him again the other night."

"What was attacking you then?" she muttered sarcastically.

"Nothing. He just flew in to let me know roaming the streets at night is a bad idea."

Lois snorted. "As if you couldn't figure that out after the mob attack."

"Yeah well, obviously it didn't stop me from walking home from work, hence his sudden appearance."

"You know what?" Lois said suddenly. "I'm coming out there. I have some money saved up and worst comes to worse, I'll tell Perry there's a big story and I need him to send me over. Hell, there's a human bat; that should be enough!"

"No! Lo, just... I'm fine and there's nothing wrong, okay?" She sighed, shaking her head. "I came in before dark like suggested and now I'm going to enjoy a little Thai and get some work done, all right?"

Lois let out a long breath. "Fine. But any sign of danger and you _call _me this time. Seriously, Chlo. I don't like you being so far away!"

Chloe nodded, leaning back into the couch. "I'll call. Promise. But I gotta go. Say hi to Clark for me, okay?"

"Yeah, whenever he decided to suddenly show up again," she muttered.

"Bye."

"Bye."

They hung up and Chloe reached for her take-out dinner before booting up her laptop. She planned to write a few pages of information on everything she'd learned in the two short days she'd been there. The more she gathered, the quicker she could put it all together into a big front page story. Pulitzer? Yes, please.


	3. Chapter III

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,733  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**_Guardian Angel_**

**III**.

"Where is the copy boy?" her editor barked from down the hall.

Chloe rolled her eyes, finishing off her coffee before she rose from her seat. It was lunch time and she hoping to find a dress now rather than having it prolonged through the week. Grabbing her coat and purse, she waved at one of the other reporters taking phone calls and took the stairs to the main floor. During the day, Gotham was much less scary. She wondered sometimes why so many people stuck around in a place that seemed to be riddled with problems and then she saw how beautiful it could be and she knew. It had its downsides, but there were certainly upsides too.

She found the mall and started searching for something in her size and budget, immediately missing having someone like Lois or even Lana there to talk to about the hideous monstrosities on hangers or the outrageous price tags on some of the more attractive pieces. Four stores later, she was beginning to think it was hopeless, and then she spotted a beautiful black silk gown. It was probably going to cost her three months of salary, but she was so drawn to it, she didn't walk away. Going inside, she fingered the material, surprised at just how soft it was. On a whim, she tried it on and felt like the most beautiful woman in the world as it hugged her curves just right and fell to her toes in a wispy fashion. She twirled back and forth, her hands running up and down her form, unable to stop from feeling sexy.

"Wow," someone said from behind her.

She turned around abruptly, flushing.

The salesgirl's eyes were wide. "I've seen at least a hundred women try that on and they all looked like complete crap." She grinned. "I work on commission, so there was no way I would tell them that. But you... You actually make that dress look _good_."

Chloe lifted a brow. "After admitting you work for commission, I'm not sure if I should believe you."

She laughed, lifting a shoulder. "I just sold three pairs of Manolo's, so trust me when I say I don't really need the pocket change this dress would get me."

"Pocket change?" Chloe reached around for the tag and her mouth dropped. "That's... doable."

The salesgirl nodded. "It's been marked down, a lot, it just never seemed to work for anyone. Until you."

Chloe nodded, still surprised.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to put it back? You look killer!"

She sighed. "Well... I guess it isn't too bad, right? I'm supposed to go to a gala this Sunday..."

"Get it!"

Chloe nodded agreeably before walking back inside and changing. She couldn't pass it up. After buying the dress, she took the bag from the salesgirl giving her a thumbs up and stopped by a fast food restaurant to put something on her stomach. She had enough shoes, so she didn't need any of those, but she did want to be sure she had the right undergarments for the dress she was going to wearing.

By the time she was done shopping, she was back at work ten minutes late but refreshed. She got back to writing an article her editor wanted written up, nothing too special, more of a space filler than anything. She didn't mind so much, still living off the high of finding the perfect dress, even if it'd only be worn once, for a gala she didn't even want to go to. She'd have to take pictures and send them to Lois.

OoO

"Lois told me you were attacked," Clark's voice came through her phone, stern and worried.

"Sometimes, you remind me of my dad," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Chloe! This is serious."

"I know," she sighed. "Everything is fine, okay?"

"I think I should call Oliver," he replied quietly.

"No. Geez, Clark. It was _one _attack. It's nothing unusual in my life, when you think about it." She rubbed the headache forming between her brows. "The last thing I need is the League appearing and playing Chloe's Keeper, all right? I already have a bat out to keep me safe, I don't need five more heroes, all right?"

"Bat?"

"Open mouth. Insert foot," she muttered to herself. "It's nothing. Just... Clark, will you please trust me? I have this under control. If I need you, I'll call."

He sighed and she knew she'd won. "I'm just worried. If you haven't noticed, you're a bit of a danger magnet."

She laughed. "Agreed. But I'm okay and while I know Gotham isn't Superman's playing ground, I'm sure he'll show up if I ever need him." She smiled lightly.

"Of course he will," he said gently, reassuring.

"When he's not wrapped up in Lois Lane, of course."

He paused. "What does your entirely too stubborn for her own good cousin have to do with anything?"

"Clark... I had front row seats for the Clark and Lana show, okay? I know what it looks like when you're mooning over someone."

"I am _not _mooning over Lois!" he exclaimed.

"Uh yeah, big guy, you are."

"I don't moon, Chloe," he muttered, frustrated.

"Unless there's a Kryptonian word for it, I'm sorry to break it to you but you moon worse than any human alive."

He sighed loudly. "I don't get it! She drives me _crazy_!"

She laughed. "She's good at that."

"And she's always calling me _Smallville! _How many years has it been? Does she have to talk to me like I'm a stray who wanders into her life from time to time?"

"Think of it as a petname," she said, shrugging.

He growled with irritation. "And she's always smiling at me, but not really, it's like she's scowling except _not_. When she realizes I notice, _then _she scowls..."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not that I'm not happy you've finally admitted you like Lois, but I really don't have the patience to listen to all the ways she drives you up the wall in an entirely too sexy way. I've got a headache the size of Bart's appetite and I just want some sleep."

"Fine," he sighed. "Is your door locked?"

"Yes, dad. And I watered the plants too." She shook her head, smiling. "Goodnight Clark."

"Night Chlo."

She hung up the phone and turned back to her laptop. Lately, the most interesting villain in Gotham's background appeared to be the Joker... His face was enough to give a person nightmares. With a sigh, she closed her computer and reached for the light. She needed some sleep before she got back to work on fixing up Gotham's nightlife.

OoO

She glanced at her watch, blowing out a breath and hurrying her steps. She hated this. Hurrying home as if she was scared when really she wasn't. She could handle herself in a fight and there was nothing wrong with the mace in her purse. She stayed a little late at the Gazette and now she was hoping to get home before the criminals of Gotham started spreading like wild fire. Her bag was making her shoulder ache; if she hadn't decided to bring home stack after stack of information from the library on former news clippings having to do with the Joker, she might not have a knot forming on her shoulder. But here she was, lugging around a too-heavy bag, muttering under her breath, and scanning the quickly darkening streets for any sign of danger. And that's when it got worse.

_Snap_.

She nearly collapsed to the ground when her heel gave way but caught herself just so. The last thing she wanted to do was walk through Gotham bare foot. She'd need a tetanus shot, she just knew it. But there weren't many options. Preoccupied with snapping the heel off her other shoe in hopes that might give her a little balance, she didn't hear the approaching man.

"Lookie, lookie... Out all alone, pretty lady?"

She turned her head abruptly. "Of course not," she replied. "My bodyguard will be arriving any second. Run along now," she told him.

He grinned at her, licking his lips. "Feisty... I like that."

"You're not gonna like it so much if you come any closer," she warned, glaring.

"And what's little old you gonna do to me?" He laughed. "Scream for help, I dare ya. Ain't nobody coming!" He kept walking, a swagger in his steps as he got closer and closer. She didn't' move an inch. "What's wrong baby? Scared stiff?"

"Nope. Just wanted to get my aim right." Without waiting for a reply, she lifted her arm and sprayed the mace harshly against his eyes. With a curdled scream of agony, he struggled to run backwards before slipping and falling to the ground.

Smirking, she grabbed her bag and hefted it onto her shoulder before she began to walk once more, a little awkwardly given her lopsided and broken shoes. She was a block away before _he _appeared.

"Fancy meeting you here," she greeted, glancing at his form as it appeared in front of her, halting her in her steps. "Might want to update the wardrobe, I think you were wearing the same thing the last two times I saw you." She grinned.

"Night fell three hours ago," he growled.

"My watch hasn't broken," she replied, lifting a brow. "I just got caught up at work. Careful, you're starting to sound like a possessive boyfriend." She tipped her head to the side, crossing her arms. "I'm on my way now. No harm, no foul."

"Tell that to the boy you maced."

"He was asking for it," she replied, frowning.

He sighed heavily. "It's safer if you just stay out of the way."

Her lips curled with a smile. "I've been told that before." She walked around him. "You'll notice I don't take orders well," she called over her shoulder.

She was nearly home before she saw him again, perched high on a roof top, hidden mostly by the shadows, but watching her, keeping her safe just in case. She wondered why she was so interesting. Unlocking the front door, she slipped inside and grabbed her mail before hurrying upstairs to her apartment. She had a lot of material on the Joker to look through. She wanted to piece together his mystery as soon as possible.


	4. Chapter IV

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,746  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**IV**.

She was beginning to think that leaving late from work was her unconscious effort to see Batman more often, but then told herself she really shouldn't want to. Because when that happened it meant one or both of them were in danger. Usually, it was her, and he was there to get her out of it. Not that she couldn't handle a fight one on one, but it seemed that more and more, they were coming out in droves.

She'd only been in Gotham five days and she'd met Batman six times; he never looked happy to see her.

Leaving a group of beat up hoodlums on the street, waiting for the cops to pick them up for robbery and assault, she continued on her way home. "I know you're there," she called out to him as he followed building to building, watching from above.

He swooped down silently, landing next to her in a graceful manner that she still found awe worthy. "You're not afraid of me."

She lifted a brow, glancing at him to her left. "Should I be?"

"It'd be easier that way." He nodded.

She grinned. "Trust me... You're not the weirdest thing I've seen in my life. Pretty high up there, but you don't take the cake." She lifted a shoulder. "Besides, I know you're not out to kill, maim, or kidnap me, so what's there to be afraid of?"

He stared at her a moment, as if making some sort of decision about her and then nodded.

"So... How goes the crime fighting?" she asked.

There was nearly a smile curving his lips and she felt a small personal victory at that.

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

He glanced at her. "I'm still doing it meaning it can't be great."

"True," she admitted. She glanced at him sidelong. "Does it feel _weird _running around in a Bat suit half the night? I mean... You can't feel too comfortable."

"It's a lot more comfortable than the original prototype... And after awhile you stop noticing it."

She nodded. "It's got a nifty utility belt," she told him, chuckling.

He glanced down at the belt and then looked over at her. "Are you teasing me?"

"A little." She shrugged.

He cracked a half smile before forcing it away. "Think you can get home without getting into trouble?"

"No promises."

He stared at her a moment and she smiled. She turned around, knowing that he'd be gone if she turned back. He was quick and silent, the perfect enemy. But while everyone else was wondering where he might be, she already knew. He'd watch her from the rooftops until she was home; he always did. Whether or not she said she'd be safe, he kept an eye out for her. She found herself thinking he and Superman had something in common and Clark would probably be happy to know that yet another hero was watching her back.

OoO

"No! Lois! I'm not _sleeping _with him! God, I just moved here barely a week ago and you're already trying to hook me up with mysterious heroes!" She laughed, leaning back into her arm chair and curling her legs beneath her.

"I'm just _saying_," she drawled. "He sounds hot!"

"How would you know? He wears a full-body Kevlar suit." She threw a hand up, head falling back against the chair. "For all I know, he's the hunchback of Notre Dame!"

Lois laughed. "So make him keep the suit on while you're doing him."

"Lo-is!" she shrieked, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah. You know you want him." She sighed. "Anything else going on there or have you finally realized you're better off here?"

"I've got the gala to go to tomorrow, but other than that? Nothing." She picked at her microwaved dinner; the noodles were still half cooked. "What about you? What's going on over there? Any interesting men in your life?"

She mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I _said_, the closest thing to interesting is Clark and his vanishing act. I swear, one of these days, I'm gonna figure out how it is he does that." She had the Lois Lane "I'll figure this out, just you wait," voice that made Chloe wonder if she should warn Clark.

"Good luck with that Lo," she told her, grinning.

"Mm, hold on one sec." She covered the receiver with her hand and Chloe stood up, dumping her dinner in the garbage before she plopped back down. Seems all she was doing since she got here was escaping danger, researching, and talking to everybody she missed. That reminded her; she had to give Oliver and the team a call. They were away on business the last month, but they should be back by now. Since she hadn't yet received a speedy visit from Bart raiding her fridge, she knew they were due to arrive within the week, otherwise she'd have heard from them already.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll have it done. Geez," Lois muttered. "Hey, I gotta get back to work. They're nagging me about something or other. Gimme a call later, all right?"

"Sure. And Lo, try to be nice to Clark."

"What? Now he's calling to whine about me?" She sighed. "I'll try if you give in and flirt with the Bat!"

"Lois," she groaned.

"I'm just looking out for you, cuz. You need a hot man to liven you up."

Laughing, she shook her head. "I'm hanging up now."

"Fine. Be that way. You'll know I'm right soon enough."

"Goodbye Lois," she said, pushing the End button before she tossed the phone away.

Sighing, she sat back on the couch and weighed her options. Stay in and watch crappy, static-driven TV while hoping her next microwavable dinner was edible or go out and explore the city to get to know it and its underworld a little better... She barely thought it over before she had her coat on and a sensible pair of running shoes tied. What harm was a little investigative curiosity?

Apparently, a lot.

She should have known. She'd been there all of five days and rarely had she managed to escape being attacked. Thankfully, her attackers were _not _the mobsters she'd just had a front row seat to watching. She was still deliberating over who she should give the information of the next drug deal to; the cops or Batman, when she was roughly being yanked into an alley and forced against the wall. She felt the blade at her neck and would've rolled her eyes if the situation were less dire. What was it with these guys and knives? What happened to good old guns?

"Still don't learn, do ya?"

She knew that voice. It was the leader of the gang that attacked her the first night.

She glared at him. "Said the man who got his ass handed to him by a rodent."

"Shut your mouth!" he yelled, the knife digging deeper against her neck. "I'm gonna have to put it to better use, I think."

She felt him moving around, his other hand fiddling with his belt and she didn't hold back the scoff.

"I'd rather choke on my own blood," she told him bluntly.

"You'll be doin' both!"

She felt his grimy hands run up her body, brushing against her breast through her shirt and she held back the whimper of fear welling in her throat. She started struggling, forgetting about the knife and starting to kick out and slap him with her hands. All sensibility about proper defense was lost on her; the fear overriding. He kneed her in the gut to get her to stop moving and she lurched, feeling the blade cut her cheek as his arms moved to keep her from getting away. Gasping for air, she felt the sting of her face and the blood dribbling down.

"Whassamatter baby, you don't wanna play?"

"She doesn't like games."

Her eyes raised, catching the dark figure stepping closer and she yanked away from her attacker in his moment of shock, hurrying over to stand by Batman before he could grab her again. Breathing heavy, she stared at the man across from her, his knife still held up, stained red with her blood, his expression wide with fear and hatred. She almost startled at the touch against her cheek, but realized it was Batman, his finger sliding up, taking with it her blood. He tipped his head, staring at the gang leader darkly. "You wanna play with someone?" he asked lowly. "Let's play."

Chloe stood completely still as they fought, her eyes wide and her common sense completely ignored. She should leave; get home and lock the door. But she didn't. She just watched. He was a beautiful fighter; the moves he made, so quick and fluid. He reminded her of Oliver in some ways; at the ways his body bended and how agile he could be. Silent and predatory; get in, get out, not a sound or a sign he was there. He had that same drive and arrogance, walking into a fight and knowing he'll win. But Batman was darker; there was something grim about him, whereas when she looked at Oliver, all she saw was a good and hope. Batman seemed hopeless; as if he was fighting for himself more than others. He became a puzzle then, one she wanted nothing more than to put together.

She didn't realize the fight was over until he had her by the arm and was dragging her out of the alley.

"What were you thinking?" he yelled, voice loud and deep.

She nearly flinched. "It's hard to tell. Do you mean before or after I was spying on the mobsters down at the harbor...?"

He looked ready to shake some sense into her and she couldn't blame him; she'd seen that look many times.

"This is no place for curiosity."

She lifted a shoulder. "I'm afraid it's engrained in me."

"Then leave. Go somewhere safer. But _stop _roaming the streets at night."

She sighed, crossing her arms. "I can't promise I'm going to stay home and play scared. I'll try to be more careful, that's all I can do."

He stared at her a moment, teeth clenched, and then he was gone, without saying anything more. She took a deep breath before turning toward her apartment. On the one hand, she had the information to encourage a drug bust, on the other, she nearly died, _again_. You win some, you lose some.


	5. Chapter V

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 2,092  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**V**.

She was nervous. Dressed to the nines, she stood in the background of the gala, surrounded by people she only knew on paper. At least in Metropolis, she had met the many people she was going to be interviewing. But here, tonight, her only job was to convince Bruce Wayne to give her a few quotes for a fluff piece in the Gazette. What a waste of a gorgeous dress.

The food was okay; since she'd been living off of microwavable dinners and whatever she had time to put together, it was nice to eat something cooked just right. She was currently in love with the cucumber sandwiches. While everyone else was chit-chatting about this or that and all the women seemed to be gossiping over Bruce Wayne, she was wondering how many of the mini sandwiches she could eat without looking like a pig. They were just so good.

Leaning against a wall, she chewed her sandwich and let her eyes wander the room. It was glamorous in that over-priced way that she couldn't help but think was a drastic and rather depressing difference from the outside streets of Gotham. While the high society types lived in high rise apartments, overlooking the skyscrapers and beautiful architecture, the regular people were living in crummy apartments, scared to go out at night. Ridiculous.

"Have you seen him yet?" came a sudden voice from her side.

She nearly dropped her sandwich, turning abruptly. "Julie?! I thought you were out for the week! It's the whole reason I'm _here_!"

"I am," she said before holding a handkerchief up to her face and blowing her nose.

Now that she really looked at her, Julie was in _horrible _shape. Her nose was bright red, her lips cracked, her eyes watery, and her skin pale. "Uh, maybe you should be home resting," she suggested.

"Oh definitely," she agreed. "But there was no way I was passing up a chance to see Bruce Wayne again." She sighed dreamily. "I don't care if this flu kills me, I wasn't staying home tonight." She sneezed, her expression tightening as she held her stomach.

"Are you sure? Because you look ready to throw up on the nicely arranged buffet."

Now she looked a little green. "I'm fine," she gasped out, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Right..." Chloe turned back around to face the crowd.

Suddenly the doors ahead opened and in walked the main attraction. She knew more because of how the women broke out whispering and pointing, touching their hair and rearranging their dresses, pushing up their breasts for more cleavage. She shook her head, rolling her eyes and turned to Julie to mention what she'd seen, only to see she was doing the same. Great...

She decided to wait for the attention to die down. The last thing she wanted to do was rush into the crowd and start asking questions like some fan of his. While he was being congratulated on this or that, she retrieved another sandwich, watching Julie rush off to the bathroom, holding her stomach. Poor Julie. Although, if she'd known she'd be here, Chloe would've stayed home and worked rather than get all dressed up to meet an overindulged billionaire. She briefly wondered if he'd be an Oliver or a Lex. Laughing to herself, she picked at the fruit plate and wondered how much longer it'd be before she could get a few quotes and get out. There was a nice, quick laptop waiting for her at home.

"Have you tried the cucumber sandwiches?" a deep voice asked.

"More times than I should have," she replied wryly before glancing up, only to find herself staring at the man she'd been waiting for all this time.

"Good, aren't they?"

She nodded. "Better than the crab."

He smiled slightly. Scratching his temple for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to ask her something.

Coming to her senses, she pulled out the tape recorder from her clutch. "Sorry to be abrupt, but uh, can I get a quote on the gala here. Chloe Sullivan for the Gotham Gazette."

His brows rose with something akin to understanding. "You're a reporter."

She nodded slowly. "Hence the tape recorder and request for a quote. It won't take more than a few minutes, tops." She lifted a shoulder. "Then you can get back to hobnobbing and I can get out of this dress."

He glanced down, eyes raking over her body. "Waste, really."

She felt a blush on her cheeks, but ducked her head. She knew his reputation; it wasn't so surprising that he'd compliment her. Instead of letting it go to her head, she turned her recorder on. "Mister Wayne, how are you enjoying the gala so far?"

He lifted a brow. "It's wonderful. I'm glad I could be of service for such a great cause."

She nodded. "You're raising money to help fix the potholes on 9th street, is that right?"

"Yes. The city has been... poorly taken care of." His lips pursed. "But I hope to help change that."

She smiled to herself. "Any idea on how much has been raised so far?"

He smirked. "Nearly enough. I plan to make up any difference and have 9th fixed as soon as possible."

She nodded. "Great. And can you just give me a quote on the people who helped put this all together?"

"They're great people. Some of the most hard working and generous citizens in all of Gotham."

She clicked the stop button. "Perfect. Thanks. Have a good night." She put away the recorder and turned to leave.

"That's all?" he asked, stopping her.

She turned back. "That's all I'm required to tape." She shrugged. "A quick fluff piece."

His brows furrowed. "That was the shortest interview of my life."

She chuckled. "What can I say? I'm good at my job."

He nodded before glancing away and then back at her. "Would you like to dance, Miss Sullivan?"

Her eyes widened. _What? _She hadn't been expecting that. The last thing she needed in her already complicated life was a billionaire with a scratch to itch, even if he was one very delicious number. He had a reputation and she didn't need to be noticed anymore than she had; it worked out better if she kept her head low and let her sleuth loose on the city without any romantic connections... He sure was handsome though.

"Not that I'm not flattered, but to be honest, my feet are killing me and I was hoping to sneak out with a few more of those sandwiches." Honesty was good; she'd been thinking just that before he decided to boggle her mind.

He grinned. "I'll have my caterer send you a whole platter." He held out a hand. "One dance?"

Tempting. The man and the sandwiches... What a dilemma!

She lifted a brow; stubborn as ever. "Isn't there somebody with less sore feet to accommodate your sudden dance urges?"

He glanced down, licking his lips in amusement before looking at her once more. His eyes were so dark, they reminded her of a starless night; blue and black warring for dominance. What was _up _with her? So a handsome man asked her for a dance; she was surrounded by good looking men all the time. Oliver Queen, Clark, Jimmy even had a quirky but handsome edge. This was no different; just another man. A tall, dark and utterly beautiful man...

His lips curled. "They aren't you."

He was _good_. Way too good.

She bit her lip before sighing. Catered cucumber perfection - that's all she had to keep telling herself. It was better than any take out or microwaved dinner, that's for sure. It was for greater eating habits, that was _all_.

"They are good sandwiches..." She took his proffered hand, which swallowed hers whole, and let him draw her out onto the floor.

His arm looped around her waist, large hand splayed across the small of her back while his other took hers and held it high in the air. She was surprised at the shiver that ran up her spine as she stood close to him. He smelled incredible; she couldn't help but breathe in the scent. She couldn't really hear the music; she wasn't sure what it was. All she knew was that her feet moved in sync with his as he danced them slowly around the floor. The silk of her dress slid along her curves with each movement as they twisted and turned.

"You said you were from the Gazette?" His brow furrowed.

"I'm the new head reporter. Transferred from the Daily Planet," she told him, following the sudden turn as she was directed sideways, her hip brushing his stomach before she was twisted back to facing him.

"Doesn't Julie usually handle these events for the Gazette?"

"She was sick... Still is." She smiled wryly. "She's currently interviewing the porcelain Gods." She lifted a shoulder. "She couldn't pass up a chance to see _you _again though, so I'm sure you'll spot her later on."

He half-smiled. "So what brings someone from the beauty of Metropolis to the darkness of Gotham?"

He twirled her suddenly and as she came to a stop face to face with him once more, she lifted a brow. "I wanted to make a name for myself and Gotham was always calling. So I packed up, moved over, and here I am. Dancing with Bruce Wayne." She shook her head. "Not what I expected in the least."

"Disappointed or happily surprised?"

"I plead the fifth," she replied. Was it just her or were they dancing much closer now? God, he certainly was nicely built, wasn't he? Through the expensive suit, she could tell he was toned and muscled to the very last inch of him. And handsome wasn't even the right word for his face; all rough angles and dark, brooding eyes. Lips that were far too sensual and smooth looking to be owned by a man.

"I could always make it worth your while..." He tipped his head. "I'm aware the Gazette hasn't yet had a full interview with me... Certainly a good boost for your new career."

"Don't take this the wrong way." She licked her lips. "But I'm an _investigative _reporter, Mr. Wayne and to be completely honest, writing about you would probably bore me to death. I don't care for the frivolity of excess; I'm here to write about what's wrong with Gotham and hope that somebody tries to right the problems."

He stared at her, lips curving with something akin to being proud.

He dipped her back, her body arching and when he drew her back up, she felt his hand skim along the revealed flesh of her back, forefinger dragging along her spine in a way that made her breath catch and her body tingle. Back on her feet, she found his face mere inches from his. "Thank you for the dance," he said, low and deep.

She nodded. "Just make sure the caterer gets those sandwiches to me," she replied, meaning to sound completely unmoved, but instead her voice was breathy.

He stepped back, picking up her hand to place a lingering kiss on top before he half-smiled at her and disappeared into the crowd.

Sighing, she shook her head. What in the world was _that_?

"I think you just caught the eye of a certain billionaire," came a voice to her side.

She turned, frowning at Julie as she stared after the retreating billionaire's figure longingly.

Julie sighed. "Lucky."

"Trust me," Chloe assured, "I didn't catch the eye of anyone." With that, she waved goodbye and left the gala, thankful that cab drivers had been hired specifically for the event so she wouldn't have to walk home in her heels and dress. She wasn't wearing nearly enough clothing to walk the cold and unsafe streets of Gotham.

She arrived home a short while later and went inside. She almost felt sad to have to take her dress off, but she stripped it away, pausing only for a moment when she swore she could smell the lingering scent of Bruce Wayne on the fabric. With a quick shake of her head, she put away the dress and everything that had happened while in it. She took a hot shower before dragging on a warm pair of pajamas and climbing into bed before grabbing the recorder from her clutch. She had a small fluff piece to hand in tomorrow. Nothing impressive, really. Nothing at all.


	6. Chapter VI

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman Crossover  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 2,726  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**VI**.

"Oh. My. _God_!"

"What?" Chloe asked, brows furrowing.

"I just brought his picture up on my computer," Lois said before whistling. "You danced with _him_?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, grinning. "Yes and it was nothing, really. Just a... sandwich deal."

"Yeah, _right_." She scoffed. "If I knew a man like _him _lived there, I would've moved over too!"

"Lois!" She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Don't tell me you don't find him attractive? He's a Greek _God_, Chloe. I mean seriously, he's- Okay, Smallville, why are you staring over my shoulder like that? Personal space, much?"

"Is that Chloe?" he asked, ignoring her protesting.

"Yes," she muttered.

"Who's Bruce Wayne?" he wondered.

"Her newest hottie, now go away. Don't you have something better to do?"

He sighed. "Let me talk to her."

"No! This is cousin time! You can talk to her later!"

"Uh, Lois?" Chloe asked.

"Hey! Hands off the goods, Smallville. You have your own phone!"

"Yeah and Chloe's not on it. Come on, Lois. I just want to say hi."

"Say it from there, she's got ears!"

"Loooooiiiiiissss!" Chloe called, rolling her eyes.

"Why do have to be so stubborn?" Clark sighed.

"Why do you think you should get dibs on her? She called _me_, so it's _my _time!"

"Fine. Just tell her to call me when you're done ogling porn at work."

"Porn? This is not _porn_, Smallville! Once again, you prove your lack of sex life!"

"Oh my... LOIS!" she shouted.

"Oh, sorry, what?"

"I have to go."

"What? But we've barely talked..." she whined.

"I know, but I have to get to work and I'm already late. I'll call you tonight. Tell Clark the same."

"Fine. Later, cuz."

"Bye."

She pocketed her cell and hurried her footsteps as she approached the Gotham Gazette building. She really hoped her editor hadn't noticed. After retrieving a cup of coffee and starting up her laptop, she heard the loud shout reverberate through the floor. Had he never heard of a phone?

"SULLIVAN!"

Rolling her eyes, she rose from her desk and crossed the hall to his office. He waved his hand for her to close the door and take a seat. Crossing her legs as she uncomfortably wiggled to and fro in the chair adjacent to him, she waited patiently.

"You got my fluff piece?"

"Typed and ready."

"Good," he said, nodding as he sat back. "Now I know it's not your usual..."

She snorted. "Really, I'd rather never do it again."

He grinned. "That's why I like you, Sullivan. You want the _real _story."

She smiled.

"Which, unfortunately, isn't going to just slide across your desk with a type me post it. So, for now, I'm gonna have to put you on less exciting detail."

"Sir?" She lifted a brow.

"I got an interesting call this morning," he told her. "Someone requesting an interview from my newest reporter."

Her shoulders slumped. No. _Way_.

"Bruce Wayne wants you to be the one to write an exclusive on him. Nobody else. This is good, Sullivan. It might not be Pulitzer good, but get your name out there, at least."

She sighed. "I really don't think-"

He held up a large hand to stop her. "Now wait, I know what you're gonna say. You don't do puff pieces. I get it. But this guy is incredibly hard to pin down for an interview and now he's offering himself up on a silver platter." He lifted a bushy eyebrow at her for emphasis. "So I dunno what you did or said, but you gotta do this. It'll get our sales sky rocketing. You want a new chair for you office? This is how you get it."

She sighed. "I want a new chair for _your_ office too," she muttered, shifting her back around.

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted. "Will you do it or do I gotta convince this guy Julie can do it?"

She chewed her lip, rolling her eyes upward. "Fine. But this is the _only _time I do anything like this again."

He grinned. "You're a godsend Sullivan. Now get outta here and back to work. You gotta be at Wayne Manor tomorrow morning, bright and early. Try to keep the mouthy girl I know on a leash too, huh?"

She smirked, turning and leaving the office.

"Where's the goddamn copy boy at?" she heard him bark behind her.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe returned to her office, taking a seat and hoping to get a little more research done. But her mind kept wandering to a certain handsome billionaire... What was he up to?

Ooo

Standing in front of Wayne Manor the next morning made her slightly intimidated. The newly rebuilt house was incredible; the architecture acutely fit the dark nature of Gotham itself, standing in all its gothic glory. It was stunning and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to sit there and just take it all in. She'd rather write about the house than Bruce Wayne, but, she sighed, her job was not taking in the sights, beautiful as they may be. She lifted a hand and knocked on the giant door in front of her. How anybody would hear someone knocking at the front door, she didn't know. The loud echo, most likely.

The door opened suddenly and before her stood an older man with white hair and eyes that looked as though they'd seen it all. "You must be Miss Sullivan," he greeted.

She held a hand out. "Alfred Pennyworth, I presume?"

She'd done her homework.

He nodded, taking her hand. "Master Wayne should be in soon. He had some... business to take care of. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea while we wait?"

She smiled. "I'd like that."

There was something about him; he rather reminded her of her dad or maybe her grandfather but at the same time, he wasn't quite as old and harmless as he seemed.

When the door closed behind her, she was given the opportunity to gaze at the beautiful inside of the house she so admired. It was even more attractive than the exterior. Hard wood and dark walls, paintings and pictures hung all over and huge staircases took up whole walls.

She followed Alfred to the sun room, as he called it, where tea was already out and waiting. She took a seat across from him and her eyes couldn't seem to stop roaming the expansive house.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, pouring their drinks.

"Gorgeous," she agreed.

"It's an exact replica of the original," he informed her. "Master Wayne wouldn't allow the slightest of modifications."

"Why would he?" She shook her head. "Why modernize perfection?"

He smiled. "Very true." He lifted the sugar bowl. "One lump or two?"

"Two please." She smiled. "I kind of feel like a little girl having a tea party. I'm mostly a coffee girl."

"Ah, well, it's a refreshing change then."

She nodded. His British accent was oddly comforting. "So you've worked for the Wayne family all of Bruce's life, is that right?"

"Yes. I knew his parents quite well." He nodded, stirring his own tea. "Mr. Wayne mentioned you recently moved here to Gotham."

"From Metropolis," she said, nodding. "The Daily Planet was always my dream job as a child, but..." She lifted a shoulder. "Apparently my dreams and my cousin's dreams were one in the same and they worked out better for her there." She smiled. "Gotham called and I answered."

"And how are you liking it so far?"

"When I'm not being mugged, it's nice." She grinned wryly.

"Mugged?" His brows rose but she got the feeling he wasn't the least bit surprised.

"Yes. More times than I can count." She shrugged. "It's not all that surprising any more. I'm a danger magnet." She shook her head. "And I seem to have a guardian angel watching over, whether he wants to or not."

His lips quirked and then fell so quickly, she wondered if she'd imagined it. "Guardian angel, you say?"

Her eyes widened, she hadn't meant to say that aloud. "Oh, it's... stupid, really. I've just... Had a few encounters with Gotham's Batman."

"Really?" His gaze fell to his tea as if he were mulling something over. "Some call him a menace... You say he was there to... watch over you?"

"Save me is more like it." She waved a hand. "Like trouble, I also seem to attract heroes. Just my luck." She tipped her head, taking a sip of the tea, smiling as it warmed her throat. "I forgot how delicious tea could be."

"Yes, we often get wrapped up in more modern alterations. I couldn't tell a Latte from a Cappuccino, I'm sure."

She laughed. "I'll have to introduce you to the magic that is coffee and its many forms."

He smiled. "I'd like that, Miss Sullivan."

"Chloe, please," she said. "So, until Mr. Wayne gets here, why don't you tell me about you and what it must've been like growing up in this incredible house..."

"I was quite grown when I arrived and my most fond memories are more with the family than the manor," he said, nodding. "The Wayne's were a very inviting and loving couple." He turned his eyes away, staring out fondly. "I believe more than anyone else, they and Master Bruce are my true family."

She leaned forward, smiling. "Sounds lovely."

"It was." He nodded. "You know... When Master Bruce was a young boy, he used to be so very excitable." He smiled. "In fact, he used to sit right where you are and drink tea with me. He'd ask me all about the wonders of the world, so curious he was... He took two sugars, but he'd sneak more when he thought I wasn't looking."

She grinned, chuckling.

For the next two hours, she was regaled with his life story and various stories involving a young Bruce Wayne, who didn't seem much like the man she'd read about or even met. Alfred's Bruce was a boy who saw the world as a giant rubric's cube, just waiting to be solved and explored. He was innocent and sweet with a natural child's mischief. But the Bruce she'd read so much about was an arrogant man who loved excess and women; shown often as a billionaire playboy. She was reminded briefly of Oliver and how he wasn't what he appeared either. The man she met was different from the public's Bruce and Alfred's. He was darker, more sensual and had a look in his eye like cunning knowledge of things most didn't understand. She wondered when she started thinking of Bruce Wayne so much.

"Well, it appears Master Wayne's business has gone on longer than anyone expected," Alfred said, frowning.

She nodded, not that she was really all that put out. She enjoyed her morning with Alfred; it was the first day since arriving in Gotham where she felt a kinship with someone. All her friends were back in Metropolis and Smallville and the closest she had was a brooding bat.

"I was rather surprised he told me you were coming..."

She glanced over at him. "So was my editor. I guess Mr. Wayne doesn't like interviews."

He nodded. "To put it lightly." He poured himself a little more tea. "Rarely is there a reporter here who isn't looking for scandal or trying to land him for herself. Greed motivates many." He frowned.

"I probably want to be here interviewing him less than he wants to be interviewed." She smiled slightly. "And trust me, the last thing I'm here for is a billionaire husband. I'll ask the basics and be out of here just as quick as I can."

He stared at her a moment before nodding. "Yes, I think you will."

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other and she felt as if she was on trial, as if he was reading every little thing she'd ever done wrong and deciding for himself what kind of person she was, to see if she was worthy. Of what, she wasn't sure, but there was something about his intense gaze that vaguely reminded her of her Uncle Sam and how he used to shoot her a long, penetrating look when she did something wrong and it'd all come pouring out, every secret and bad deed until he was satisfied that she was no longer hiding anything from him. That changed by the time she was a teenager; then she started knowing things that were too important for her to spill. But now she felt her throat tighten as if she should share everything she knew with Alfred, good and bad. She kept her lips tight however; she wasn't about to say anything incriminating about anyone. _Ever_. She was the secret keeper of too many heroes to start blabbing now.

"Would you say you were a trustworthy person, Miss Chloe?" he wondered.

She pursed her lips for a moment. "Yes, I would." She nodded. "But I have a feeling you wouldn't take my word on it, Alfred. Some things need to be proved rather than simply accepted by word of mouth."

He ducked his head agreeably. "What really motivates you here in Gotham? Why leave Metropolis for the complete opposite." He tipped his head to side. "You said yourself the Daily Planet was your dream and it's obvious you're a vibrant woman... So why move over here, to a place filled with corruption and darkness?" He stared at her intensely, desiring honesty.

She paused, taking in the question and then lowered her teacup to its china plate. "First, let me tell you that Metropolis isn't all rainbows and lollipops." She shook her head. "There was darkness there too, maybe not to this caliber, or at least not so much in the open, but it wasn't as good and safe as it might've seemed." She leaned back in her chair. "Secondly, I left Metropolis for a few reasons. One was that I felt I was being underappreciated, that I wasn't making the difference that I strived to make. The Gazette kept calling, they wanted me and my drive, so I finally took up their offer and I'll freely admit that it was a bit more than I ever expected but..." She looked up, brow furrowed. "I don't know what it is about Gotham, it just makes you feel like it's worth saving... and I want to help do that."

Alfred nodded. "Well," he said, "I believe you will."

Chloe grinned. "Thank you." She lifted her tea to her mouth before spotting the time. "Has it really been that long?"

He looked to the clock. "It appears it has."

She sighed, standing from the chair. "I'm really sorry, Alfred. But I need to get back to the Gazette. I have an article that needs to be done today and I've hardly started."

He stood with her, nodding. "Of course. I'll walk you out."

They walked through the halls once more with Alfred pointing out random places. "That's where Mrs. Wayne's prized vase used to sit... Until Master Wayne knocked it over playing hide and seek one afternoon." She smiled, watching his face light up as he shared memories. "And right there is where Mr. Wayne used to stand and wait for his son to come down and greet him after work." He sighed. "He'd come running down the stairs and jump right into his father's arms."

She touched his shoulder to comfort him and he gave her a small smile. Just as they were about to reach the front door, it opened, and in walked Bruce Wayne. His eyes widened as they fell on her.

"The interview was today?" Bruce asked, brows furrowing. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot."

"Given the two and a half hours you're late, I assumed that." She waved off another apology. "It's fine. Alfred was more than hospitable." Turning, she shook Alfred's hand, pecking his cheek in farewell. "We should get together again soon. I still have to introduce you to coffee!" She grinned before turning to Bruce. "Maybe we can set up another interview when you're less forgetful." She smiled cheekily. "Nice seeing you again Mr. Wayne." She left without a handshake.

Hopefully, that was that. Whatever he wanted from her, he could forget about it.


	7. Chapter VII

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman Crossover  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,775  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**VII**.

"She's a very intriguing woman," Alfred commented, serving dinner calmly as Bruce sat back in his chair, frowning.

"Intriguing and stubborn." He reached for his wine and took a sip. "Did she mention her constant run in's with Batman?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I believe she referred to you as her guardian angel." He smiled as Bruce choked on his wine.

"You can't be serious, Alfred." He shook his head, staring up at his oldest friend.

"Quite, sir. Although I don't believe she meant to say it aloud." He shook his head before taking a seat. "She did seem quite reluctant to spend any time with _you _though."

He frowned. "She doesn't care for the frivolity of excess," he quoted.

"Sir?"

He glanced up at him, brows furrowed. "I asked for the interview... I wanted to know her better. The other night, when I found out she was a reporter, I saw an opening."

"And why does Miss Sullivan peak your interest?"

His lips pursed. "She's merely a distraction, Alfred. The sooner I can convince her to stop wandering the streets at night, the sooner I can end any interest."

Alfred looked rather amused. "So your interest lies only in keeping her safe?"

"Of course." He steepled his fingers, resting his hands against his chin. "What other reason would there be?"

Alfred was silent for a long moment before carefully replying, "It's been some time since Miss Dawes, Master Wayne. I understand it was very tragic... But one cannot live on tragedy alone."

Bruce looked over to him, eyes dark before he looked away. "I've come this far, I don't see any reason to stop."

"One might suggest a certain reporter could be the start of a reason." He rose from his seat and left, leaving Bruce to his thoughts.

True, she had peaked his interest. That first night, hearing her confident tone as she told the boy she wasn't giving in, it reminded him of when so many others had been that strong. And seeing them try to put the fear into her like the rest of the city angered him. He didn't want her to change, even if he didn't know her. Seeing her again only reminded him why that confidence was bad. While he believed that one day, the streets of Gotham should be free for all to roam without fear or prosecution, he knew that time had not yet come. And having her out there meant he had to keep an eye out, had to make sure she hadn't gotten into trouble once more. But she seemed to have a love for danger and was always poking her head into things that were likely to get her killed sooner or later.

That night, seeing her there across the gala, dressed in a gown that made her look like an elegant temptress out to do him in, he couldn't stop himself before he was standing next to her. Before interrupting her thorough inspection of the fruit plate, he inhaled the soft, sweet scent that lingered around her. She was just as quick talking to him as she was with Batman, which he found refreshing. He couldn't begin to imagine what made him ask her to dance, but having her in his arms reminded him of days long past; of a man who had long ago been pushed aside. She was soft and curvy and absolutely beautiful. In ways he hadn't noticed in many woman; not for a long time.

Before he knew it, he was calling the Gazette and requesting an interview. He wanted to see her again, even just to have her throw a sharp quip in his face. But he had to meet with Lucius that morning about a suit modification and before he knew it a plan had formed. There was nobody who could read people better than Alfred and it wouldn't hurt for his butler to make a new acquaintance. Coming home to find that she and Alfred had gotten along well and she was out the door before he could even ask her to stay, left him in deep thought and a world of confusion.

What was he doing? Tempting fate like this.

She wasn't an heiress or a woman who just wanted to be seen on his arm. In fact, she didn't want to be seen with him, period. She was more interested in getting her career off the ground and making sure it was turned in the right direction rather than interviews with the rich and roguishly handsome like her colleagues. He should stop pursuing whatever it was he wanted from her and get back to business. His focus had to remain on Gotham and Batman, not an intrepid reporter whose eyes alone had him dreaming of her.

He shook his head.

Whatever this was, it had to end.

OooO

She was fairly certain Batman had a tracking device planted on her somewhere. No matter where she went, he was there. She was only slightly worried he might blow her cover. So she was tracking a mob that wouldn't even flinch before lobbing her head off, it wasn't the first time. But did he really have to stalk her every movement? It made her feel like she wasn't quite as stealthy as she thought she was. If he could find her, did that mean others were able to as well?

But here she was, hidden in the darkness behind shoulder high crates. She was gathering all she could on the mobsters inside the harbor warehouse, but hearing them was a little hard from her vantage point. Since they didn't seem to know the meaning of variety, she thought about possibly planting a bug inside that way she could hear better and from a farther distance. But getting inside the warehouse during the day without being seen was going to be hard.

"You're going to get caught," came his deep voice from behind her.

"If you don't duck, yeah, I am," she told him, yanking him by his utility belt until he was kneeling next to her.

"Do you have a death wish?" he growled.

"Quick and painless, but not for a _long _time." She lifted a brow. "Are you going to go in and break that up or do I still have a little while to figure out what they're up to?"

He pursed his lips. "Breaking them up now accomplishes nothing."

She nodded, half-smiling. "Good. 'Cause it was just getting juicy."

He shook his head and then suddenly, he had his arm wrapped around her and she was flying through the air. She kept waiting to fall out of his grip or for somebody to start shooting them, but they then they landed on the top of the warehouse. Taking her hand, he kept walking, bringing them somewhere she couldn't figure out; it was too dark and she didn't know the warehouse all that well, not from this view. "Where are we going?" she whispered.

He didn't reply.

When he stopped, they were crouched high above on a landing, giving them a bird's eye view of the mobsters. _Now_, she could hear them loud and clear.

"Did you guys get the cards?" one asked.

"Yesterday."

"Then he's back."

They all nodded.

"You know what this means?"

"All hell will break loose and the Batman won't know who to go after first!"

"To the Joker's return!"

They cheered.

Chloe's mouth dropped open and her head turned, eyes wide as she stared at the man glaring darkly from beside her. Without warning, he took her hand once more and pulled her away. Silently, she followed after him as they left the warehouse. She held on tight as they swooped through the air from the roof to land easily on the ground. His hand found hers and without a word, he pulled her down alleyways and away from the harbor. She heard an engine revving and a large black car that looked like a military dream pulled up in front of them. "Get in," he ordered.

For once, she did as she was told. He climbed in front of her and the car raced forward at a speed that had her wrapping her arms around his waist for stability. "Holy crap," she muttered, watching the scenery whiz by. As soon as she got comfortable with the speed, she reached out to touch the various buttons around her, careful not to actually push them. "Did you build this yourself?" She shook her head. "My uncle would give his right arm for one of these."

"Your uncle?"

"General Sam Lane of the US Army," she muttered, eyes still looking around at all the gadgets. "You must have a whole artillery in here."

"Just about," he replied.

The car came to an abrupt stop where she found herself plastered to him. She felt incredibly tiny in that moment, pressed against his large expansive back, her hands gripping his broad shoulders. She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

He nodded slightly. The top of the car opened abruptly for her to climb out. With a little maneuvering she managed to get out without kicking anything.

She stared at him, sitting inside the car, eyes ahead and fierce glower on his mouth.

"So... About the Joker," she said, lifting a brow. "Any comments?"

"Thinking of quoting me in tomorrow's Gazette?" His lips twitched with a smile.

"How'd you..." She shook her head. "In any case, this is completely off the record... If the Joker is really back, that spells all kinds of trouble."

He frowned. "I'll take care of it."

She rolled her eyes. "Just like every other hero I know." She crossed her arms. "I get the Lone Ranger act, but you might want to call in some back up if this is happening. I know people... Heroes, just like you. And if you ever need the help-"

"I don't," he interrupted.

She sighed. "Of course not." She glanced at her apartment building behind her. "You know where to find me." She turned and started walking.

She heard the engine rev and knew he was gone without having to turn around. When she locked the door behind her, she leaned her back against it, staring out at her apartment. The Joker was back... She shook her head, swallowing tightly. Whether Batman wanted her help or not, this was big. She hurried toward her laptop and the stacks of information she had on him. She was in research mode and she needed to know everything she could. She wouldn't walk out into Gotham with blinders on, especially if war was going to break out.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman Crossover  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,324  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**VIII**.

"Miss Sullivan?"

She turned abruptly, lifting her head from her laptop to see Bruce Wayne standing across from her. He handed her a cup of coffee, which she took mostly out of surprise. "Mr. Wayne," she said, cocking a brow. "To what do I owe the sudden intrusion?"

He smiled, taking a seat in the chair across from her. "Candid, as always." He cleared his throat. "I had an open slot in my schedule and I remembered how inexcusably late I was for our interview."

She stared at him a moment. "To be honest, I really think Julie might be better for this."

He smiled. "Julie's still sick." He leaned forward. "Did you get the sandwiches?"

She grinned, relaxing into her chair. "Yes, and give my regards to your caterer, they were little pieces of heaven."

He chuckled lowly, nodding. "Only the best."

She licked her lips, wondering if she still had any left. Her stomach growled and she found herself glancing at the clock. No wonder he had an open slot, it was lunch time already.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Her brows lifted, read to decline. That was verging on getting cozy with him and she really shouldn't. "I'm..." Her stomach growled once more. Traitorous stomach! She couldn't exactly lie to his incredibly good looking face, now could she? "I could go for something," she admitted at his amused half-smile.

He stood up. "Let me take you to lunch. You can interview me then and this will all be behind us." He stared at her, his eyes an intense shade of dark blue. "And I'll finally stop disturbing you and your work."

She grabbed her jacket from the back of her seat and lifted a shoulder. "Well, if you insist."

The restaurant wasn't the most expensive place in the city, which she appreciated. It was, however, more romantic than she expected. The dark lighting inside gave everything a more enticing feel and she found herself watching all of his movements with eyes that couldn't help but take in every inch of him. Lois hadn't been embellishing and she'd only seen a picture of him on her computer. Up close and personal, Bruce Wayne screamed dangerously attractive.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. Whenever he stared at her like this she felt like she was on trial, like he was looking right into her and learning her most hidden secrets. She'd met him, what, three times? How was it had this effect on her?

"How's Gotham been treating you so far, Miss Sullivan?"

"Chloe," she told him. "And it's been... interesting, to say the least. A constant mystery, I guess."

"Mystery... And here I thought the city was an open book. You can't walk down the street without seeing first hand how bad it's gotten."

"True." She nodded. "But then it has its upsides too. The city itself is beautiful, it's just been overrun by those taking far too many liberties. Instead of fighting crime, the politicians and police look more toward getting a cut." She shook her head, lip curled with disgust. "From what I can tell it's more you and Wayne Enterprise doing something to help the city get back on its feet."

"I've done what I can."

"You've done more than most," she complimented. Arrogant billionaire or not, he obviously cared a lot for Gotham and the people who lived there.

"I grew up here." He shook his head. "It's not the same city it was when I was a child. I'd like to see it restored to its former glory."

She nodded. "I'd like to walk the streets at night."

He stared at her evenly. "I'd like to know the cops and politicians are in it for the people."

She stared right back. "That the mobsters going into jail actually stay there."

"For the city to finally see its due justice."

"For somebody to stand up and say 'No More'."

He smiled genuinely. "I think we have the same ideals, _Chloe_."

She grinned. "I guess in just a week and a half Gotham's grown on me."

He tipped his head. "We need more people like you here then."

"I'm sure they're out there, hiding in their apartments, waiting for the right time."

"You're not afraid, are you?"

_You're not afraid of me._

"Should I be?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"It'd be safer."

"Easier, too," she murmured. Her lips pursed thoughtfully; she wasn't one to ignore instinct, but Bruce Wayne? As Batman? Her eyes took in his form; he had the build, even the eyes, and that mouth that she'd immediately noticed. But _him_? She shook her head. She wouldn't jump to conclusions just yet, but the suspicion was starting. "The world doesn't change because we want it to. We have to make it." She lifted a shoulder. "I won't hide and wait for someone else to step up. I'm here, I have something to say and a paper willing to write it. Why not show everyone that something can be done? That the wrong can be served justice?"

He nodded slowly. "Making a declaration like that could prove dangerous."

She smiled. "Danger and I go hand in hand. Why break tradition?"

His brows rose, a smile gracing his mouth. "Well... I can't say I'm opposed to Gotham getting a taste of reality."

"Good to know. Not that it would've stopped me if you had been." She grinned.

Lunch was placed down in front of them and again, she was pleased to have a real meal. She desperately needed to unpack her pots and pans and then get to a grocery store. Given how late she often left the Gazette though, she was starting to wonder how anybody managed work and regular day-to-day errands. Her fettuccini was delicious and she found Bruce wasn't such the overconfident billionaire as she'd thought he'd be. In fact, he was quite warm. There was something about him; something in how he carried himself and looked at her that made her feel _embraced_. As if he knew her and accepted her as is. It was an unusual feeling, not one she was all that used to. More often than not, people didn't appreciate her curious and brash nature. Even her friends had been known to get irritated with her reporter's love for mysteries; but then, Clark was an alien hiding a big secret, so he had due reason to worry.

"Have you seen any of the sights?" he wondered.

"Besides dark alleys and the hall your gala was held in?" She smiled good-naturedly. "Not really."

"Gotham houses a few of the most incredible museums," he told her, lifting a brow. "When you have the time, you should definitely check them out. They're no Louvre, but certainly breathtaking."

She smiled, nodding. "I'll be sure to put it on my list of things to do."

He lowered his voice. "And what else might be on your list?"

She bit her lip momentarily. "What would you suggest?" Dangerous territory, flirting. She should stop.

"Dinner. Friday night. I'll pick you up at eight."

Her brows rose with surprise. "What happened to you no longer disturbing me and my work?"

His lips curved at the corners. "It's been a long time since a woman intrigued me, Chloe." He leaned forward. "I can't make any promises or assumptions about where this might go. But I'd like to take you out... Show you that a night in Gotham can be more beautiful than you expect."

She felt her heart race and in the back of her mind, she swore she could hear someone yelling, '_Say yes, you idiot! Why are you even thinking this over?_' It sounded a lot like Lois, too. Licking her lips, she glanced away and then back. "One dinner... Show me the sights and the city and we take it from there. No strings attached."

He half-smiled, nodding.

It was a date.


	9. Chapter IX

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,964  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**IX**.

"You _what_?"

"I sort of said... yes," she bit her lip, brows raised.

"Ha! I knew you liked him! Go Sullivan, you just scored yourself a rich hottie!" Lois exclaimed into the phone. "Shut up, Smallville! I'm celebrating!"

"Is that Chloe?"

Lois sighed. "No, it's my long lost love! Now go away!"

"Fine. But I haven't talked to her in a week and I'd like to know how my best friend is doing!"

Chloe smiled. "Tell him I'm fine and I _promise _I'll phone him tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let him know. Now tell me exactly what you and your new billionaire boyfriend are doing on this date."

She couldn't help it, she grinned. "I don't even know. He said he'd surprise me by showing me the beauty of Gotham at night."

"Ugh, he sounds like a romantic. You're unbelievably lucky, you know that? You leave here and pick up a gorgeous billionaire while I'm stuck with _Smallville_."

"Hey!" Clark exclaimed.

Chloe laughed. "Complain all you want, Lo, but I think you're happy to be stuck with Clark."

"I am not! You're so lovestruck by Wayne, you're becoming delusional!"

"Whatever you say," she murmured, shaking her head. "Anyway, I gotta get back to work. When lunch rolls around, I have to hit the mall for something nice to wear on my... _thing _with Bruce."

"Just call it a date. You know you want to."

"We're leaving it open. I don't want to label it. He said himself he wasn't sure what he could really offer and he didn't want to make assumptions."

"So bang his brains out and make sure he'll never leave you."

"LOIS!" both she and Clark half-yelled.

She laughed loudly. "Joking, geez. Although, I wouldn't pass him up if he offered. The man's drop dead gorgeous."

Chloe nodded her head agreeably. "Still... With everything going on, should I really be getting into a relationship?"

"No," Clark said.

"What is _with _your hearing? You're not even near the phone!" Lois told him. "Whatever. Look, cuz, I know you're really bogged down with trying to bring crime rings to light and taking down Gotham's dark side with your trusty laptop, but come on! How often does a good looking man walk in to your life and promise to sweep you off your feet?"

"He didn't promise to-"

"He said he'd show you the beauty of Gotham at night, how does that _not_ sound like he's trying to romance you?"

"Well..."

"Go. Have fun! Have sex, please! For both of us!"

Chloe grinned, chuckling. "All right, it's a date and I'll have fun. No promises on sex."

"Hot sex."

"Still no promises."

"Hot, steamy, billionaire sex."

"Lois..." she groaned, shaking her head.

"Hey, I've been there, done that... _In-credible_."

"Great... Now I won't be able to look Oliver in his face without remembering that."

"Hey... It's not his fault he's a- Ow! Smallville!"

"What? I'm just looking out for everybody in the vicinity. Nobody wants to hear about your and Oliver Queen's sex life."

"Whatever," she muttered. "I have to go. There's a farmboy that I need to beat up."

Chloe smiled. "All right. Later Lo." She hung up her phone and returned to her typing. For a city known for its businesses, export and import, she thought there'd be more to write. But really, she felt like everything was just put on the back burner. The good story was still being written and she needed more time and investigating before she had it all. It didn't help that every day felt like another step closer to Joker's return. She kept waiting to walk outside and see the city in chaos. Broad daylight or night time, it wouldn't matter. But he hadn't made his appearance yet and that just made things more tense.

With a sigh, she checked the time and decided to take an early lunch. She needed to pick a dress for the only good thing marking her calendar. She wondered if Alfred would meet her for a latte. Maybe he'd even be up to a little shopping.

OoO

Two days later, she was anxiously searching her apartment for the right pair of shoes. She had surveillance to do and she wasn't about to wear the only heels she could find. She'd just gotten off the phone with Clark, who she'd assured she'd be fine and would call right after she got home. He was like a mother hen, sometimes. Still, she missed being around him some days. Not that she didn't appreciate Batman's ever-present lookout for her, but once upon a time, the big guy who saved her was an innocent farmboy with a heart of gold.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed, spotting her running shoes peeking out from beneath her bed. She didn't know how they got all the way over there, but she didn't care. She pulled them on and tied them tight before grabbing her coat and tape recorder. After locking the door, she made her way downstairs and out into the empty street. She could either try the abandoned building where she knew gang activity was on the rise or head toward the docks and hope they still hadn't learned that if they kept moving they were less likely to get caught.

She chose the latter; hands stuffed in her pockets and hood up to make her look less suspicious. She was half way there before _he_ arrived. She sighed, looking over with a lifted brow. "No offence, but you're kinda blowing my cover."

He glanced at her, eyes raking from top to bottom. His lips pursed.

She scoffed. "Like a batsuit is much better," she told him, rolling her eyes.

"It's safer than jeans and a sweatshirt," he growled.

She shook her head. "Yeah, and the pointy ears fend off mosquitoes." She sighed. "To what do I owe the drop in? Usually you wait for me to be attacked and then tell me I told you so."

He didn't reply and they continued to walk further and further into the dark streets, the chaotic noise of another night in Gotham getting louder with each step. She was beginning to think he was just trying to intimidate her into leaving. It wasn't as if she'd get much spying done with the giant black Bat at her side. Instead of hoping he'd disappear, she decided to take advantage of the situation. If there was anyone she trusted besides Alfred, it was him.

"What do you think of Bruce Wayne?"

He paused, his entire body stilling. He turned to look at her with thinned eyes. "Why?"

She lifted a shoulder. "He might've, sort've asked me to dinner... And, I need a second opinion, so..."

"So you're asking _me_?" He sounded rather incredulous.

"Who better?" She smiled. "So? Is he trustworthy?"

"As trustworthy as a _billionaire_ can be."

She laughed, nodding. "But he's not... I mean I haven't... There's nothing in his background that suggests he's on the wrong side, I just..."

Batman stared at her a moment, lips pursed. "Follow your gut."

She stared back. How was it Bruce Wayne could make her body shiver with the same look? Why was it Batman could growl a few words and her insides seemed to tighten? She felt like she was caught between two infatuations and she wasn't even sure she wanted either. "My gut could be misleading... It's full of butterflies."

He nearly smiled. "That's a good sign, isn't it?"

_Not if it's for two different men_.

She nodded, instead of telling him something he wouldn't be willing to hear. He was, after all, just a hero looking out for the citizens... There was nothing _really _between them... Right?

"Hurry up, Nellie Bly," he called back to her in that deep growl.

Shaking her head, she jogged back over to him, keeping up with his long strides. It seemed weird to see him just walking around when she always expected to find him perched roof to roof, watching, waiting. "Where's the Batmobile?" she wondered.

"On standby."

She nodded, fiddling with the inside of her pockets. "Have you heard any news on The Joker?"

"He's laying low."

"So that would be a no..." She sighed. "Have you considered my offer of help?"

He frowned. "Gotham is my city. I don't need anybody else's help!"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

It was silent for a long moment, nothing but sirens and distant fighting, before he turned to her once more. "These people... These _heroes_... How do you know them?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Habit of the job, I guess. I search for trouble; they're always trying to solve it. They're good people, just trying to bring justice to the world."

His lips pursed as he stared forward in thought. "Do you like Bruce Wayne?"

She startled, eyes turning toward him. "Abrupt conversation change," she mumbled. "I... Don't dislike him... I just..." How to explain it? "He's... I expected him to be arrogant and flashy and full of... well, something." She tipped her head, smiling. "But he's actually rather interesting. I don't know him well, but I think I'm hoping to." She shrugged. "Why? Do you think I'm in it for the money or status?"

He glanced at her. "You're not the type."

She snorted. "As long as I have coffee and my laptop... I don't need anything else." She turned to him. "How 'bout you? What could you never live without?" She lifted a hand. "And don't say Kevlar."

He cracked a slight smile. "I don't know..." His growl was softer now. "There were things I thought I couldn't stand to lose and I lost them... and here I still am."

"Love?"

He nodded. "I loved her."

"Do you still?" she couldn't help but wonder.

He stared ahead before turning to her suddenly. "It's been a long time... I'm not sure she could still love me."

"Does she know about the...?" She motioned to the suit.

He nodded.

"And she didn't tell?"

He shook his head. "Not even when it could've saved her life."

She smiled grimly. "True loyalty is rare."

"So is true love."

She grinned. "Batman and Chloe Sullivan... waxing poetic about loyalty and love." She cocked a brow. "Bet you never thought you'd be doing _this_ on a night in Gotham!"

His mouth twitched. "It wasn't in the schedule, no."

"So what's your five year plan for this fare city?"

"Five years..." His head tipped. "I'm starting to think it might be a life long commitment."

He sounded so sad by the idea and she wondered what it might be like to both love and despise your own heroism. "Sometimes the world cries out for a hero and the only thing you can do is stand up."

"Wouldn't that mean if I stepped down, there's somebody waiting in the wings to take my place?"

He almost sounded hopeful.

She shook her head. "Sorry to burst the bubble but in all honesty... Do you think you could trust anyone else with Gotham?"

He stared at her for a long moment and she felt his dark gaze infiltrate her entirety, somehow making her feel like he'd just discovered her most hidden secrets and decided not to tell them. "No," he said, shaking his head.

She smiled knowingly, but her insides still shook. "Exactly." She didn't know what possessed her, but she reached out and took his hand in hers. What surprised her more was that he didn't pull away. "Personally, I don't think Gotham could ask for a better hero."

He looked over to her, giving a slight nod.

Their hands slowly fell apart and they were back to business once more. But she couldn't pretend she didn't feel something in that moment... What was she getting herself into this time?


	10. Chapter X

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,398  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**X**.

"Should I wear the black or navy suit, Alfred?" he wondered, staring into his closet.

Hands behind his back, Alfred lifted a brow. "And where are you taking Miss. Sullivan, Master Wayne?"

"It's a surprise." He sighed, moving through his shirts.

"I'd go with the black sir; it'd match her dress better."

"Match her..." He turned around, staring at his faithful butler questioningly.

Alfred lifted a shoulder. "I met Miss Chloe for coffee the other afternoon. We happened to get a little shopping done."

"You went to the mall?" Bruce lifted a skeptical brow.

"Yes, it was... busy." He tipped his head. "I enjoyed an Iced Cappuccino."

He stifled a laugh, trying to imagine his butler with an Iced Capp in hand. "You've taken a liking to her."

"She's... different, sir." He smiled. "In a most pleasant way."

Bruce nodded agreeably. "Maybe a suit's too formal," he muttered to himself.

"If you'd tell me what it was you were doing, I might be of better assistance."

Bruce sighed, turning around. "You won't tell her?"

"You're picking her up in an hour, Master Wayne... Upon last inspection, I was _not_ a gossip." He watched him with keen eyes for a moment. "Tonight really matters to you, doesn't it?"

He frowned. "Unfortunately."

"We aren't meant to stay alone forever, sir."

Bruce raised a brow. "You're alone."

"I have you," he reminded with a shoulder.

"We have each other."

Alfred shook his head. "No Master Wayne, you have a whole future ahead of you. Don't spend your life with your butler, good friend as he may be." He stepped into the closet and pulled down an outfit he found appropriate. "Perhaps Miss Sullivan is not the woman you'll spend your life with... And perhaps she is. One doesn't know until they take a chance." He handed him the clothes. "Take yours." With that, Alfred turned and left the room.

Sighing, Bruce nodded before changing into the night's outfit.

OoO

She should cancel. She paced the floor, back and forth. There was tons of work to do and she could be hunting down the latest news with Batman instead of going out on some sort of romantic _thing _with Bruce Wayne. What was the _matter _with her? This was probably the last thing she needed in her already entirely too complicated life. She bit her lip, taking a long breath and then letting it out. That was it, she was going to call and tell him something came up and she just couldn't go out with him. And then she'd get into something comfortable and warm and start looking for trouble.

Good.

Her decision was made.

She walked to the phone and picked it up, only to hang up when she noticed there was a message on her machine. Reaching over, she pushed play.

"_I know you... Right now you're chewing your lip and making up excuses to cancel. Do **not** touch that phone, Chloe Ann Sullivan! Or so help me, I will book the next flight out there just to kick your butt for screwing us both over!_" Lois's voice came through loud and clear. "_I'm living through you, cuz. So you better go out there, have a fantastic time, eagerly enjoy some billionaire hottie sex, and then give me every tiny detail so I can pretend it was me and not you! I mean it!_"

"_Stop encouraging her, Lois!_" Clark's voice could be heard in the background. "_If she doesn't want to go out with him-_"

"_Stick a sock in it, Smallville. Just because you're a reborn virgin, doesn't mean we all have to twiddle our thumbs for a little fun!_" She cleared her throat. "_Now Chloe... Listen carefully... You're going to take a breath-_"

Chloe inhaled.

"_Let it out slowly--_"

She exhaled.

"_Lift your shoulders-_"

She straightened her back.

"_Grow a spine and get your freak on!_"

Chloe rolled her eyes, smiling.

"_Get to it, cuz! Call me as soon as you get in!_"

"_I can't believe you just-_"

The phone cut out on Clark's complaining and she shook her read, returning the phone to its cradle before she pulled her heels back on and grabbed her purse. She was going to do this. It was going to be fun. Even if it didn't turn out to be romantic or sexy or any of that... At least she was doing something other than work, right? Right. And Batman said he was trustworthy, so on top of a laid back evening, there'd be no death threats! That was _always _a plus.

Good.

Her decision was made.

She was going.

She heard the buzzer alerting her somebody was there for her.

Oh god!

OoO

He couldn't count how many times he'd seen this precise building, but being here as Bruce Wayne felt different. He wondered if her taste in journalism was what had her living in this particular part of Gotham or if she just couldn't find any affordable housing in the less dangerous city area. He was distracted from his thoughts when he saw her walking towards him. Her simple black dress seemed to move with her in an entirely too attractive manner. His head fell to the side, eyes scanning her form from head to toe with agreeable pleasure. His brows rose as the front door opened and she stepped out.

She lifted a brow. "Do I meet your standards, Mr. Wayne?" she asked teasingly.

He cleared his throat. "You supersede them." Somehow, he knew she would. He held out an arm. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she replied easily, sliding her arm around his.

They stepped down the stairs and walked across to the expensive car waiting for them. He held the door open as she slid in and then rounded the sleek, black Lamborghini to the driver door. There wasn't much traffic due to how early the city closed up and so it was a quick drive from one destination to the other.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" she wondered curiously.

His lips curled. "That'd take all the fun out of it."

She tipped her head, returning her gaze outside to try and figure out just where they were headed. It wasn't long before he pulled up to a private dock and her brows lifted with surprise. She climbed out of the car before he could get to her door and stared at the long white and black yacht lit up and waiting. He took her hand and began walking toward it, with her still staring wide-eyed before she shook her head. "What? Didn't feel the marina cut it?"

He smirked. "Somehow I think the drug dealers would disprove of my boat being there."

"Just a little," she murmured.

The crew he'd hired to man his yacht nodded hello to them as they passed them by. He took her to the main deck where it was lit with twinkling lights and faint classical music could be heard playing. She stuck close to him, her eyes wandering all over and her hand comfortably entwined with his. It was small and delicate, somehow fitting and contradicting the woman he knew. He was still wondering what it was he was doing. Nothing was meant to come out of this and there was a great liability in getting close to her. She knew Batman, better than most civilians, and she trusted him and his judgment. On top of that, she was a journalist, one who didn't take things at face value but instead dug deep into issues and brought them to light. And now here he was, tempting her curiosity and putting his duo identity on a platter for her to discover.

"Are you thirsty?"

She nodded, eyes still gazing around. "Yes, please."

He poured them each a glass of champagne and handed her hers.

"So, not that I'm complaining, but is there any food involved in this date? Because I haven't eaten since lunch..." Her stomach made a growl and she shrugged. "Okay breakfast."

He half-smiled to himself in amusement before he stepped back and motioned toward the table. The lights on the deck lit up brightly and she was able to see the platter of cucumber sandwiches waiting.

Her eyes lit up as she walked over gleefully. "You know my weakness, Bruce."

She had no idea that she knew his too.


	11. Chapter XI

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 2,636  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XI**.

"Wow," she breathed.

The heavenly little cucumber sandwiches were behind her and some part of her had been worried that would be the highlight of the evening until Bruce directed her to stand at the rail and the yacht slowly circled the island upon which Gotham perched. From afar, with nothing but skyscrapers, lights, old and new architectures mixing, it was absolutely stunning. She felt his hands grip the rail on either side of her own and his front press against her back warmly. "I told you so," he murmured lowly against her ear.

Her eyes fluttered momentarily, her skin tingling, stomach fluttering. "It's hard to believe it can look so beautiful when you know what it's like to be standing in the middle of it at night."

"And what, Miss Sullivan, were you doing roaming Gotham streets at night?"

She glanced up at him, mouth quirked with a smile. "Searching for a story, of course." She turned so her back was against the rail, her elbows resting on it to keep her balance. She felt his thumbs brush against her arm and suppressed a shiver. "You remember our lunch the other day, when we exchanged all those dreams we had for Gotham?"

He nodded.

"Well those things won't happen just because we want them to or dream of it. Somebody had to get it started, has to stand up and tell the people out there that if they want it, they've got to help too. It's not Batman's job to go out there and save a city of people who don't even appreciate it. He picks up the slack but they let it get worse; too overwhelmed with fear to do anything." She shook her head. "When Harvey Dent was alive, he was _doing _something for this city and yes... It didn't turn out well. But that doesn't mean we should just stop. It doesn't mean we should let the city fall apart again."

His jaw twitched. "You realize by doing this you'll be painting a target on your back."

Her mouth curled. "You sound like someone I know."

He looked wary for a moment before gracing her with a smile. "Is that good or bad?"

She lifted a brow. "Very good."

"Good enough that I might convince you to dance?" He lifted one of her hands, thumb stroking the top of it.

She pretended to think it over. "I suppose I could allow you one dance, Mr. Wayne."

He took her out to the deck floor where the lights dimmed only to the small twinkling bulbs strung all over like Christmas lights. His hand found the small of her back, drawing her in close so that every movement had her front brushing against him. He lifted her other hand in the air, their fingers twined. "Alfred mentioned you've been having a few problems here in Gotham. Something about numerous muggings?" He cocked a brow.

She laughed. "It's nothing I can't handle." She shrugged. "Not even that unusual for me."

His brow furrowed. "What kind of life have you lived, Chloe?"

She twirled herself beneath his hand as she lifted it up and over her head and then slid close to him again, resting her hand on his shoulder. "A very interesting one," she told him simply.

"I have no doubt."

She licked her lips. "And you? When you're not showing reporters the beauty of Gotham, what are you doing?"

"Working," he told her, nodding. "Always."

"I'd tell you it'd make you a dull boy but I have the same problem." She grinned. "I love my work; it's dangerous and it'll probably be the very painful death of me, but..." She shook her head. "I wouldn't trade it in for a safe desk job any day."

He swayed them back and forth, turning them in circles as they danced all around the deck, his fingers drumming along the small of her back. Her dress felt infinitely thin against his touch, as if he'd somehow slid through the blue fabric, so dark it was practically black, to sear her skin with his touch. She and Alfred had gone shopping, him enjoying an Iced Cappuccino that he loved so much he bought another before they left. They stopped at the same boutique she'd been at when she picked up her banquet gown. She had a choice between three dresses; one was red, another green, and the last a magnificent shade of blue. Alfred had immediately grabbed the blue one and then shooed her away to the changing room. When she exited, both he and the sales girl had gawked before they shook hands and announced that she was getting it. She laughed, but agreed that she did look phenomenal. Now, however, she felt like she should be wearing five layers and a parka just to keep her senses about her.

She'd gone to Gotham for a career, for a new start, and now she was dancing with its most eligible bachelor, thoroughly entranced by his long fingers drawing shapes and circles along her back. What worried her more was that she felt no desire to stop him; she knew she should, she knew what she was doing was only going to confuse things, but she didn't move or pull away or make an excuse to go home. Instead she leaned a little further into him. God, he smelled wonderful too. And there was something about his broad form that was comforting and warm and all too attractive.

"Alfred also mentioned that you've met the Batman..." he murmured, voice full of curiosity.

She went rigid for only a second and then glanced up at him. "I've met him a few times," she said, shrugging as if it meant nothing.

"Guardian Angels only drop in to say hi and then disappear?"

She snorted. Once again a term she shouldn't have used comes back to bite her. "He's good at disappearing." She shrugged. "You'll be talking to him one second, turn to look at him, and he's gone."

He nodded, eyes turning away for a moment. "There are a lot of people looking for him, you know... Good and bad."

"Good's a relative word. If they knew what they were doing, and yes I mean the police force, then they'd leave Batman to do his work. Half of the precinct is on the mob's bill, why should anybody trust their judgment of a man who's gone out of his way to clean up Gotham as best as he can?"

His lips curled. "It's rare to find someone standing up for the Bat..."

"Well when I approve, I really approve." She shrugged.

"Should I be expecting a front page in-depth one-on-one interview between you and him anytime soon?"

She stared up into his dark eyes and then laughed. "Not only do I rarely do interviews unless they're with dirty politicians, but he would never agree. And on top of that, I'd prefer to keep my relation to him, if you could even call it that, completely unknown."

"Really? Why?"

She quirked a brow. "Because I don't want to be used against him or vice versa... He has his way of saving this city and I have mine... If we happen to run into each other some nights, then fine. But I won't become a hindrance to his cause, just like I hope he won't to mine."

Bruce nodded before suddenly twirling her once more and drawing her in so her back was pressed to his chest. One of his hands fell over her hip and hers covered it, while their other were still held up in the air, fingers twined. "Enough work... Tell me about yourself."

"What's there to tell?" She swayed back and forth, head falling to his shoulder. "Ask me a question."

"Siblings?"

"None. But I have a cousin that's practically a sister." She grinned. "Lois. She's back in Metropolis, calls almost every day to ask if I'm coming back." She laughed. "She's even threatened to move here with me."

"You must be close."

She nodded. "The closest."

"Parents?"

"My father's name is Gabe, he works _a lot_. Must be where I get it from. I haven't seen him in... _too long_." She shrugged slightly. "And my mother... My mother is Moira..."

"What got you interested in writing?" he wondered, letting her answer on her mother end there.

"I don't know. It's just always been a drive of mine. When I moved to Smallville from Metropolis, there always seemed to be something to write about. So I became the Editor of the paper and I filled it with everything you can think of. I had a very small, usually non-existent staff, so it was usually just me and my laptop." She shrugged. "The sports section was pretty sparse."

He chuckled.

She looked up at him. "Did you always want to run Wayne Industries?" she wondered.

He shook his head. "I can't really remember. It was always just there, waiting for me..." he smiled slightly. "It's not as if I ever planned to be a firefighter or jet pilot."

She grinned. "I don't know... I think you'd do those firefight calendars justice." She twirled herself back around and wrapped an arm around his neck, her eyes dancing as she heard his low, deep chuckle. "He does laugh."

He looked down at her, mouth still curved. "Perhaps you bring things out of me that I thought were long buried."

"Laughter and joy?" She shook her head. "We'll have to spend more time together, Bruce. You've yet to experience some incredible things."

He stared down at her, lifting a hand to brush her hair from her cheek. "I'm starting to realize that."

She felt her heart skip, her breathing stutter. She could feel the heat of him wrapping around her, as if pushing out the cool wind that flew past them as the yacht cut through the water with ease. She licked her lips, found herself wanting to lift up on her tip toes and taste those all too smooth looking lips of his. Before she could do just that, there was a clatter behind them and her head turned to see one of the waiters placing a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice. She let out a sigh and swallowed. "Thirsty?" she asked him.

He stared at her, nodding and then took her hand, leading her to the table once more and pouring them each a glass. As she took three long gulps, she hoped it would calm her nerves. His hand found her waist once more and directed her toward the back of the boat, where they leaned against the railing, side by side now. "You can see the stars out here," he told her.

She tipped her head back, eyes gazing up at the expanse of black littered with bright white stars. Standing in the middle of Gotham, there always seemed to be an eerie glow to the sky. It was as if the city itself had snuffed out the stars and replaced it with the glow of resonating evil. But from this vantage point, it was all so much more beautiful. She sighed, relaxing as the cool window skittered over her, blew her thin dress around her legs. One of her straps fell down her shoulder but before she could right it, she felt Bruce's finger against her shoulder. She turned her head, watched as it trailed up, placed the thin blue-black strap back in its place and then continued to draw circles of all sizes along her shoulder.

"If I kiss you, I have a feeling I'll never be able to leave you alone..." he murmured. "And that promise I made about never disturbing you or your work will more than likely be completely out the window."

She laughed, staring up at him with wide green eyes. "Maybe we shouldn't then... Could be better if we just-"

He cut her off by swooping forward and slanting his lips across hers. She nearly lost her balance not from the suddenness of it all, but because it was entirely knee-weakening. She accidentally dropped her champagne glass to the floor, but neither of them drew away even as it shattered. His arm wrapped around her waist, drew her up close and tight. Her hand buried in his hair, tightening in soft black strands. His mouth was heated and rough, those lips just as soft as she expected but meeting hers with a passion she'd never experienced before. His tongue trailed across her lips and she parted her mouth immediately, moaning as their tongues tangled, met and danced together. The need for air tightened her lungs but she refused to draw away. Their noses brushed, his hand tightened around her far hip, squeezing, and she found herself thinking that it was too fast, too consuming, and that hot, hot sex Lois suggested she have was very much a good idea that she'd better not go through with. _Yet_.

His hands spread out along her back and slid up her spine, making her arch, her form pressing into his body so tight she wasn't sure where she began and he ended. They gasped for air with each slant of their lips back and forth. She felt her hair knocked out of its perfect condition as one of his hands buried in it, holding tight, kneading the back of her neck. She gripped his shoulders, fingers curling tight, sliding up to his neck, tugging at his collar and lightly scraping down his neck. She grinned into their kiss as he shivered, growling before he turned her around, pressing her against the railing. There was something rough and yet still tender about Bruce Wayne in that moment. His mouth so possessive and deep against her own while his hands were gently kneading her shoulders and down her back, letting her hair flow down in a mess around her shoulders after releasing it from the confines she'd had it up in.

She barely knew him; she knew that. So there was no reason for there to be such passion and intensity between them, not really. But she welcomed his hands against her as if she'd been waiting and wanting them for so long. She met his mouth with equal fervor as if lost lovers finally kissing in reunion. It was too fast, too deep, but she couldn't stop herself. Her stomach tightened, her heart pounded in her ears and her skin tingled from head to toe. And then suddenly, there was an explosion, huge and loud and violently rocking the island not so far from them. Their mouths parted abruptly, swollen, but their eyes were set on the huge ball of fire in the distance where the harbor used to be. Their brows rose and they glanced at each other, still wrapped in each other's arms.

"We should go back," he said, his jaw twitching.

She nodded. She just found something to write in the paper to hold the people and her editor over until she was done on the big crime expose she was writing in the safety of her home.

Her head fell to the side, leaning against Bruce's shoulder as she watched the fire reach for the eerie dark sky hanging above Gotham, yellow and orange flames licking violently. She just knew that later that night, after she'd changed out of her gown and pulled on her sneakers, she'd get down there to see people tossing more and more things into the fire just to keep it going, to keep the chaos alive; and above it all, watching on with dark, suspicious eyes would be Batman. She wasn't sure how to feel about wanting to see him again, even as she stood in the warm, bracing arms of Bruce.


	12. Chapter XII

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 1,341  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XII**.

She was right. When she arrived at the large burning harbor, there were people all over, some of them cops trying to keep the crowd at bay, others throwing garbage and broken furniture onto the fire, hollering and laughing as the everything burned bright. She stood in the background, keen eyes watching, searching. Most people were talking amongst each other, pointing and shaking their heads at the flaming harbor. She could hear the sirens of the firefighters coming and watched as the cops segregated everybody, those who were innocent and were likely to just hurry home and hide in their apartments once more from those who were sure to cause trouble. She was caught in the middle, still searching for familiar faces, anything that might give away just who had done this.

And then she spotted it.

Lying their on the ground, a small little playing card. She bent down, picked it up and swallowed tightly. She pocketed it before turning and hurrying back to her apartment. As she got inside, she locked the doors and kicked off her shoes before she nearly ran to her laptop, booted it up and brought her largest and most in-depth file up. She sighed, annoyed that she was shaking on the inside. When she heard a knock at her window, she flinched, but scowled, forcing herself to calm down before she grabbed her tazer from her dresser and made her way into the living room. There was a shadow covering the window of her balcony and she stepped closer, head tipped curiously. She pushed the curtains back hesitantly, telling herself not to scream no matter what she saw. And then she rolled her eyes, shoulders slumping and unlocked the sliding glass door.

"Don't move," she ordered before running into the bathroom and grabbing a towel, she dropped it on the floor for him to step on as he climbed inside. He closed the door behind him, locked it and then stared at her before holding out a hand.

She sighed before walking to her room, grabbing up the card and coming back. She dropped it in his hand and frowned. "He really is back."

Batman stared down at the card, his lips firming into a line. "And this was his greeting to Gotham." He lifted his chin and stared at her. "If I tell you to leave...?"

Her brow cocked. "I wouldn't," she said firmly.

He nodded. "Then move." He looked around. "This isn't safe."

"And where am I supposed to go?" she asked, eyes widening. "I'm not exactly working a glamorous job that pays big." She shrugged looking around. "So it's not in a safe area, but it hasn't failed me yet."

"There've been two break-in's since you moved in."

She put her hands on her hips. "I think I would've noticed."

He frowned at her. "I stopped them before they got in."

Her shoulders slumped. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

His mouth twitched. "You're welcome."

She rolled her eyes. "All right, fine. I'll go apartment hunting tomorrow. But I think _this_," she tapped the card, "is a little more important."

He straightened. "I'll take care of it."

She shook her head. "Go ahead... Play the stoic, single hero that can take on the world. But when you realize you need help, then you know where to find me." She glanced at the balcony door. "I think you know your way out."

He frowned. "You're trying to help and I appreciate that. But I've dealt with the Joker before... He's not going to respond to anybody else."

"And when he responds to you..." She stepped closer, eyes wide with seriousness, "What do you expect to happen? What do you expect to come out of you two raging war against each other? Because there is a city between you and while you're trying to stop him, he's using it to cause more and more chaos. So you can do this your way and you can fight your little vendetta off by yourself, or you can ask for a little help and I can give you the right connections to finally rid Gotham of one of its worst enemies."

His jaw twitched beneath his cowl. "We'll see."

She sighed, nodding before she turned her back on him. He stood there a long moment, simply staring at her before finally taking the hint and leaving through the door he came in. She bit her lip to keep it from wobbling and went over to lock the door. Closing the curtains, she made her way back to her bedroom and worried over just what might come of all this. Closing her laptop, she moved it off her bed and climbed beneath her covers still wearing the jeans and sweatshirt she'd pulled on after shedding the beautiful dress she'd been wearing earlier. She tugged the covers around her, turned off the lamp and sighed, closing her eyes tight. How could I night that started out so wonderful turn so dark?

Only in Gotham; only to her.

She would've laughed if she didn't feel like crying.

OoO

"I heard about the explosion, are you okay?" Clark asked worriedly over the phone.

"I'm fine," she assured, pouring herself a large cup of coffee. "At the time of the explosion, I wasn't even on the island."

There was a pause. "Where were you?"

"On Bruce Wayne's private yacht," she admitted, not with a little bit of excitement. "He took me out to see Gotham from afar, to get a real look at it, and _wow_, Clark. It's just... amazing. It was so beautiful. Which is hard to believe because when I got back in there, close enough to be feel the fire of the harbor, I couldn't fathom having such outer beauty and inner ugliness."

"Sounds like you had an eventful night."

She nodded. "You can say that again," she muttered, blowing on her coffee briefly before she took a seat at her kitchen table.

"Is that Chloe?" Lois' voice could be heard calling out.

"Uh, no. It's... somebody you don't like."

"Wow, Smallville... Your lying skills have gotten _worse_. I didn't even think that was _possible_."

"Shut up."

"Lemme talk to her."

"No. You always get to talk to her. It's my turn."

"What are you, four?"

"If I'm four, you're three."

Chloe laughed. "I have to get to work, you guys."

"See! Now look what you've done," Clark exclaimed. "That was two minutes I could've spent talking to Chloe."

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd just learn that I'm always right, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He snorted. "Always right? Uh, do you remember last week?"

"Well that was-"

"Or just last Sunday, when you-"

"Again, that wasn't really-"

"And _yesterday _when you-"

"Gimme the phone, Smallville, and I promise not to hurt you!"

With a sigh, the phone was passed over.

"I. Want. Details."

Chloe chuckled. "Sorry Lo, I have to be at work in five. But I will call you tonight and tell you _everything_."

"And in this _everything_, there happens to be _something_, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "There may or may not have been a breathtaking kiss that made my knees weak."

"Yes!" she cheered. "Okay, call me tonight; I want to hear _all _about it."

"All right. Talk to you then. Bye."

She could hear Lois and Clark start their arguing again before the phone was hung up. As she put her own on the cradle, she stood up and made her way over to her purse to make sure she had everything before she left for work. She just _knew _the Gazette would be going crazy when she got there. She couldn't quite muster the enthusiasm expected to write the piece, but she'd get it done. If it did nothing else, it would get her mind of the current love and work issues driving her crazy. Between Bruce Wayne, Batman, the Joker and her expose, she was beginning to think an early vacation wasn't a bad idea.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 2,200  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XIII.**

"Realty, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, peering over Bruce's shoulder with a lifted brow. "I hadn't realized you were in the market."

Briskly closing the paper, Bruce raised his eyes to his friend. "It's a good investment... And if I should buy a few apartment buildings and sell the suites for less than usual, people will have a good chance of moving away from the darker and more dangerous areas..." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"And would any of these 'people' you're referring to happen to be a charming blonde reporter we both know?" Alfred asked, lips twitching slightly with amusement.

Bruce sighed. "You seem to think everything I do lately has something to do with Chloe..."

"And I haven't been proved wrong yet, have I?"

He glared at his butler, frowning darkly. "How many times must I tell you that she's only a distraction, Alfred?"

Smiling to himself, Alfred replied, "Until you believe it yourself, sir."

Bruce sighed.

**oOo**

"Where's the copy boy?" Chloe's editor could be heard shouting loudly from his office.

With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, she knocked briefly before stepping inside to see him.

"Sullivan! Thank God, girl. I need you on this harbor thing. I want to know when, why and who, and I want to know yesterday."

"Yes, sir."

"Well get on it!"

With a chuckle, she nodded before walking out and across the hall to her own office. She noticed Julie eyeing her from across the room with wide eyes. Chloe hadn't even known she was back from her sick leave until that moment. As she opened her office door, she knew what had Julie looking at her like she had. Sitting on the center of her desk were three things. A vase of tulips, a tall cup of coffee (from her favorite shop, too), and a plate of cucumber sandwiches with a small post it on top that said "Lunch."

She dropped her purse on the chair next to her door and crossed to the tulips, inhaling their sweet scent before she plucked the note sitting in them. "_Our workaholic natures aside, I'd like to see you again. -Bruce_" There was a seven digit phone number waiting for her to call him.

She grinned before rounding her desk to take a seat; she leaned back and found herself unable to stop smiling giddily. When there was a knock at the door, she looked up to see Julie hurry inside.

"Just wanted to come see you... Sick leave's over and I'm back to the Gazette, so..." She eyes up the contents and smiled at Chloe curiously. "Secret admirer?"

Chloe half-smiled. "So you're feeling better?"

"Much." She nodded, looking grateful to be able to get through a sentence without nausea or sneezing.

"Good. That means you're free to cover any and all gossip from now on." She grinned wryly. "No offense, but I'm just not cut out for your kind of work."

Julie smiled. "Thankfully, I'm happy to do it." Her eyes fell to the flowers once more. "So... anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

Chloe lifted a brow. "You do realize the harbor _blew up_, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I meant anything _juicy _happen," she said excitedly, leaning closer for the scoop.

"Much as I love a little girl talk..." Also interpreted as: _I'd rather it not become headline news_. "I _really _have to get this harbor thing written up."

With a sigh, Julie rose from her seat. "Fine... But know that while the Gazette hasn't always been the best paper, the gossip columnist just happens to be _incredibly _adept at her job." She winked before leaving, closing the door behind her.

Leaning back in her chair, Chloe shook her head. The last thing she needed right now was a whole column on how she and Bruce hammed it up on his yacht... She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She couldn't regret her night in the least. Straightening, she booted up her laptop. Now was not the time to be thinking of handsome billionaires but instead about a certain joker with a fetish for face paint and bombs...

**oOo**

"Wait, wait, wait... Tell me again how it felt."

Grinning, Chloe rolled her eyes. "Lois, seriously, there are only _so_ many ways I can tell you that Bruce Wayne is an incredibly kisser."

Lois sighed. "Fine... But just so we're clear, you said _incredible_, right? Not just fantastic or sweet or passionate, but _incredible_?"

"In-_credible_," she emphasized, laughing lightly. "Now, are you satisfied?"

"I have a feeling I'd be even _more _satisfied if you called Hot Hunk up for another date and gave me even _juicier _details after..."

"Or... you could finally give in and ask Clark out and give _me _the details of _that_..."

"Pfft... Still delusional. Must be all that crime-induced hysteria over there. It's causing you to lose your mind."

"Hey, just because I started bringing up the sexual tension between you and Clark now doesn't mean I only _just_ realized it." She grinned. "You two have been fighting against it for too long, Lo. It's time to give in to the allure that is Clark Kent."

"Please! _Allure_? Clark Kent?" She snorted. "Smallville doesn't know the first thing about-" She cut herself off abruptly. 'What are _you_ doing here?"

"Uh, I _work _here," Clark could be heard replying.

"I know that. But you said you were leaving, as in out of the building, meaning you weren't listening to this very private phone call with absolutely nobody you know..."

"Is that Chloe?" he wondered. "She's not still talking about that Wayne guy is she? He doesn't have the best track record..."

"Did he _Google_ Bruce?" Chloe asked laughingly.

"You _Googled _Chloe's Hot Hunk, Smallville?" Lois teased.

Even from where she sat, without the visual of Clark's face, she knew he was frowning at Lois lightly after he rolled his eyes at her.

"I was only looking out for her," he said. "And this guy isn't what anybody would call monogamous."

"Who cares about monogamy? We just want some hot-hot-"

"We?" Clark interrupted.

"Chloe, we, whatever... The point is-"

"Uh guys," Chloe called out, shaking her head. "Lois, will you put Clark on? I haven't talked to him in awhile and I think we're finally done discussing the great kissing techniques of a certain billionaire."

"Fine..." she sighed. "But take my advice and give him a call... And then give _me _a call and tell me how it all went."

"All right," she agreed, smiling.

The phone was jostled around with Lois and Clark arguing before finally, he answered. "Chloe! Hey!"

"Hey! So... How's life?"

"Good. Fine... Frustrating, if Lois is anywhere in the vicinity."

"Just doing my job, Smallville!" Lois could be heard replying in the background.

Chloe chuckled under her breath.

"So have you learned anything, about the harbor explosion I mean...?"

"It's complicated by one of Gotham's elite terrorists has returned and this was his debut of sorts..." She shrugged, hoping he didn't read too far into her explanation..

"Terrorist," he repeated.

"Well, Gotham doesn't exactly house the nicest of people, Clark. You knew that when I told you I was moving here."

"Yeah, but at that time there was no worry over former terrorists and exploding harbors," he reminded, voice rising with worry.

"Look, I understand your concern but... I live here now and I'll deal with this just like I have everything else. I mean, to be honest, this is unusually good for me. One minute I'm writing about the goings-on of certain individuals, some of which aren't even around anymore, and now those people are here to further prove my point and drive the reasoning home. What's an expose when all of the criminals are in hiding?"

"It's _safe_!"

She sighed. "Please don't lecture me about this. I'm perfectly fine. I-"

"How far do you live from the harbor?"

She chewed her lip. "Far enough."

"Chloe..."

"Clark, really... I have this under control. And if I don't, you know that I'll call you, all right?"

He sighed. "All right."

"Good." She smiled. "Now, tell me all about the frustrations of Lois Lane... And keep it PG."

He snorted indelicately.

**oOo**

"Then it's settled," the realtor said, shaking Bruce's hand heavily. "I'm so glad we could do business, Mr. Wayne. Each of these apartments is sure to make you a vast amount of money. The previous owner was selling them each for over a quarter of a million dollars and-"

"I'll be renting them out," he interrupted, still inspecting the view from the balcony.

"R-Renting?" he repeated. "Here? But this is all..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Paying as much as you are for these buildings, it would be in your best interest to sell them to the highest bidder. Given your background, you'll have much more success than myself."

Bruce turned toward him. "And renting them out for a lower price would be better for Gotham. The more people we get out of the slums, the less problems we'll have controlling them." He shook his head. "And maybe, in time, there won't be a place in Gotham that can be _called _the slums."

The realtor didn't look convinced and gave a befuddled look toward Alfred before simply nodding. "Well, they're your apartments, sir."

"Hmm," he replied stoically before turning around with a fake grin. "Great doing business with you. Feel free to contact me if you have any other buildings available."

He nodded agreeably before turning and leaving, a skip in his step over the commission he'd just made.

"You're sure to make headlines, Master Wayne," Alfred told him, stepping up next to him and looking out over Gotham's landscape.

"I think she'll like this one best," he answered before gripping the balcony rail and testing its strength. "We'll keep it for her until she comes to her senses."

Alfred half-smiled. "Were you testing the rail to make sure she'd be safe or that you'd be able to land on it, sir?"

Bruce raised a brow at him. "What do you think?"

"Both."

He shook his head, sighing. "It's not what you think."

"I believe the opposite is true. And that in actuality, you're still not sure _what _to think."

Bruce stepped back inside, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "You're a bit of a nag, Alfred. Has anyone ever told you that?"

He smiled. "I only nag for your benefit, sir."

Frowning, Bruce left the apartment, locking the door and pocketing the key.

Tomorrow, he'd have contractors come in and complete fix-ups on every floor and then he'd advertise the new low-rent apartments and set up a team to interview each and every person who wanted to move in. Hopefully, it would help the city turn around even just a little.

**oOo**

He hadn't seen her all night. He stood high on the roof overlooking the harbor, his gear on and his cape silently dancing in the wind. He expected to see her walking right into the middle of trouble at any second but not once had he seen her blonde hair heading in that direction. He wanted to be happy over the fact. She shouldn't be out there, situating herself in the middle of gang wars. But at the same time, he found he missed her presence. Sure, she could be a bit of a nuisance, but he was coming to realize now he rather welcomed it. And the fact that she wasn't out didn't satisfy him any; it only made him wonder.

He couldn't explain whether it was Bruce Wayne or Batman that held such an avid interest in her. The Dark Knight in him was fascinated with the inner-workings of her mind; how she threw herself into precarious situations for a story and the truth, for justice to come to light. While the man in him was drawn in by her realism; by how in love she was with Gotham and how much she wanted to help it despite having only moved there recently. She was beautiful and bright and when she looked at him he didn't feel like Bruce Wayne the philandering billionaire or Batman, the chaos chasing, justice seeker that roamed the streets at night. He was somewhere in between; someone who was both dark and light.

The problem now was that she was angry with Batman for not trusting her, for not taking her advice and accepting help. But what did she think of Bruce? Their night out on the water, the all-consuming kiss that nearly bowled him over... Whether she liked either or didn't, couldn't, matter in the end. She was only a distraction. One he didn't need with the Joker returning. He couldn't confuse himself with ridiculous wonders about charismatic reporters, no matter how tempting they may be. It was time to put the charm and the curiosity away and focus on the Bat. He had a city to keep safe and Chloe Sullivan wasn't going to draw his attention away from that any longer.

He hoped.

[**Next**: Part XIV.]


	14. Chapter XIV

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 2,440  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XIV**.

She was staring at the phone. Lois' voice rang over and over in her head. _Just call him_. She made it sound so easy, when in reality all the butterflies in her stomach made words almost an impossible feat. What was she supposed to say? It'd been nearly a week since their one and only date and now... Now she was starting to think that despite a very wonderful and passionate kiss, perhaps it wasn't the best time to be getting ensnared by a handsome billionaire that could make her toes curl with a half-smirk.

Sighing, she shook her head. This was ridiculous. It was just a phone call. She should at least thank him for the flowers and sandwiches, even if it was a week later and the flowers were browning and the sandwiches were all gone. Still, it was the polite thing to do. But what if he thought it was something more? What if he hadn't called her because he was having second thoughts? But then, he had left her a number and suggested that a second date would be nice. So, in essence, he was leaving it up to her. And a week wasn't _so _long... Right?

Chewing her lip, she closed her eyes and dialed the number. What was worse was that she'd actually _memorized_ it. The phone rang shrilly; once, twice - Oh God! She should hang up! - three times, four - Nobody was home; that was good... But what if the answering machine picked up? What would she say if-

"Wayne Residence, how may I help you?"

Chloe's eyes shot open. "Alfred?"

"Miss Chloe," he greeted fondly. "How are you?"

"Good... I'm... Good." She shook her head at herself, disgusted at her poor word choice. "You?"

"Good, as well. Are you looking for-"

"No," she interrupted, louder than she meant to. "Actually, I was going to see if you were free for lunch... So... Are you?"

"Yes, of course. Perhaps we could stop at the mall on the way and I could pick up another of those delightful Iced Cappuccino's..."

Chloe grinned, relaxing. "Sure. I wouldn't mind one myself."

"I can have the town car pick you up, if you'd like."

"No thanks. My feet are in great working order," she said teasingly. "I'll see you at the front doors of the mall in say... Twenty minutes?"

"Wonderful. See you then."

"Great. Bye."

Hanging up, Chloe threw her head back and sighed. What was _wrong _with her?

Frowning, she stood up from her chair and picked up her purse before reaching for her jacket. He may not be Bruce Wayne, but Alfred had his own charm and she couldn't say she wasn't looking forward to seeing him again.

OoO

Sitting in the middle of a mall food court, Chloe had to stifle a smile of amusement. Alfred looked terribly out of place, although he was doing a great job at hiding his discomfort.

"I gathered earlier that you were hesitant to call Master Wayne," Alfred said, lifting a brow at her as he stirred the last little bit his iced capp with a plastic straw.

She half-smiled. "Was I _that _obvious?"

He smiled lightly. "If it makes you feel any better, every time the phone rings he's quick to answer it... and just as quick to look less enthused when it _isn't _who he had hoped..." He stared at her meaningfully.

Chloe sighed. "What am I _doing?_" she asked, shaking her head. "I don't have time for handsome billionaires, Alfred. I barely have time to grocery shop."

He nodded understandingly. "The important thing to notice, Miss Chloe, is that despite what time limitations you have, you're trying to find a way to _make _time for Master Wayne. Shouldn't that be enough to tell you that whatever it is between you is something worth going after?"

She directed her eyes downward, thoughtfully. "Every time I reach for the phone, a million and one reasons go through my mind about why it's a bad idea..."

"And how many tell you it's a good idea?"

She looked up, her lips twitching. "A million and two..." She laughed, feeling her cheeks heat up. "But most of those reasons shouldn't count seeing as they're just highlighting how handsome, charming and what an incredible kisser he is..." She groaned.

Alfred chuckled slightly before reaching over and patting her hand. "Sometimes... we must stop thinking with our heads and pay attention to our hearts... Logic can sometimes hinder us from seeing far more meaningful things."

Looking up at him, she nodded. "You're sure..." She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, "You're absolutely sure that I'm not just going to be another name on the Bruce Wayne list of dates, right?"

He stared at her seriously. "I can honestly say that I don't believe you are like any other woman who's come into Master Wayne's life... And I firmly believe he's noticed the same."

She felt her heart skip a beat at that and then grinned. "All right... Well, before we melt into a muddle of soap opera mush, why don't we stop by and get a refill on your iced capp and then make a small pit stop before we leave. I have a few things to pick up."

"Wonderful... I was getting down to the last of my drink as it was... Do they sell a home appliance that makes these delightful drinks, do you think?" he wondered hopefully as he walked next to her.

She grinned. "We'll take a look."

OoO

Later that night, Chloe slid her key into the lock only to pause. It sounded like somebody was inside. In fact, it sounded like somebody was rifling through her fridge. Sliding her hand into her purse, she pulled out her tazer and then turned the key, opening the door as quietly as possible. As she stepped inside, she scoped out her living room and found it empty. She maneuvered closer to the doorway of the kitchen, her body tense with anticipation. She steadied her breathing and then jumped out, tazer at the ready.

"Whoa!" Bart Allen stood with his hands up in the air in a surrendering motion. He had a fresh banana in his mouth, which muffled his voice, a cup of yogurt in one hand and a pre-wrapped bologna sandwich in the other. "White flag! White flag! I'll be your humble slave, just don't tazer me," he said dramatically, winking for effect.

With a sigh, Chloe walked back to her door, closed and locked it and then returned to find him pulling out a large jug of orange juice. "Bart, what are you _doing _here?"

He grinned, wiping the excess orange juice from his chin with the back of his arm. "Just popping in... Grabbing some grub. They guys'll be here in a few but Ollie thought it might be smart to give you some warning. He's pretty sure you don't check your messages..." Speeding past her in a red blur, she turned to find him sitting on her recliner, feet up and a pile of food in his lap. He motioned to the couch across from him. "So? Tell me what's been going on?"

With a slight smile, she walked over to take a seat. "You sure you wanna know? I haven't had the most unexciting first couple weeks," she warned.

His brows rose. "How exciting are we talking?"

She half-smiled. "In our world, what's really considered exciting anymore?" she reminded, eyes wide.

He sat up. "Tell me," he encouraged, mouthful of food.

Taking a deep breath, she let it all out, in strong detail.

In the end, Bart was laughing. "You're _so _gonna be hauled back home by Ollie! He's gonna flip when he finds out!"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a grown woman, Bart. I think I can make my own decisions."

He stared at her, brow cocked. "He's not even gonna let you get a word in, 'licious. He'll have you packed and moved before you can blink."

Frowning, she shook her head. She knew Oliver and he could overreact at times. He was trying to look out for them, she knew that. And if he knew _half _of what happened while she was in Gotham, he really would be pushing her out the front door and hiring movers to get out of the city. But she had to put her foot down. She wasn't going to let him talk her into moving. While Gotham hadn't exactly been the easiest place to live in, it was really growing on her. And she kind of liked the darkness that surrounded it; it made her want to work harder to see just what good lay underneath.

Giving her a smile, Bart grabbed the remote control and flipped on the TV. It was going to be a long couple hours of worrying and trying to come up with a sound argument before the other guys showed up. Biting her lip, she rose from the couch and walked toward the balcony door. Her heart sank immediately. The second Oliver showed up at her apartment building, he'd already have an idea about how to get her out of Gotham. She had to work quickly.

OoO

Not for the first time, she wondered what she was doing. When she told Batman she'd be looking for a new place, she figured she could put it off awhile. So her apartment wasn't exactly homey... or safe... or even all that well put together. But it was in her price range and while he didn't think its location was particularly good, it had its advantages. She was more than a little closer to the city crime spree and had a front seat view to everything bad going on. All she had to do was walk a few blocks to the now charred harbor and the surroundings gangs and mobs weren't exactly living in the skyscrapers outside of the slums.

Eight tries later and every place she called was either unavailable or too much for her to pay each month. While Gotham Gazette wasn't exactly paying her minimum wage, the housing in Gotham wasn't cheap. The apartment she was living in now was just barely in her price range and she'd been lucky to get it on such short notice. But if she didn't have a solid excuse when Oliver showed up, she was a little worried she might just be moved out of Gotham before she could even get to the root of the new Joker problem. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his concern; she did. But this was her life and one of the reasons she left Metropolis was to get out on her own. She needed to make a name for herself and it wasn't going to be done in a paper owned by Lex Luthor or any of his minions. And while she loved the Justice League, her calling was still in writing and she had to do her best to try her passion first.

With a sigh, she looked back down at the paper in front of her. There was only one ad left that she hadn't answered; one she had been hoping to avoid.

_Looking for affordable housing here in Gotham?_

_Tired of living in the less than safe part of the city?_

_One, two, and three bedroom suites are now available!_

_Contact Wayne Enterprises, Housing Center for more information._

Sighing, Chloe plucked up the phone and dialed the number, chewing her lip as it rang. An automated directory answered, asking her if she knew which department she needed. A few minutes later, a real voice picked up.

"Wayne Enterprise, Housing Center. I should warn you that this call is being monitored for better quality customer assistance, is that all right?"

"Yes," she replied automatically.

"Great. My name is Jennifer, how may I help you today?" a cheerful woman asked.

"Uh, hi." She opened the paper once more, slightly glaring down at it. "I recently read the ad in the paper and-"

"I'm sorry! If you're referring to the ad in Sunday's Gazette, nearly all available suites have been filled."

Her eyes closed and she frowned. "Wait..." Her brow furrowed. "_Nearly _all?"

"Yes," she exclaimed in that overly cheerful voice of hers. "There is only one suite currently unfilled but it's on hold right now."

"On hold...?" she drew out, questioningly.

"A deposit has already been placed on the apartment via an anonymous donor."

Curiosity peaked, Chloe couldn't help but ask, "And this deposit, it was made so the apartment wouldn't be taken? So that a certain person could get the apartment at their leisure?"

"Yes ma'am."

Tapping the paper thoughtfully, she queried, "Can I ask who that person is?"

"You can but I am only allowed to disclose that information when the proper password is given."

"Really?" She mulled it over a moment and then said, "Cucumber sandwich?" Her brows were furrowed with uncertainty.

"Sorry ma'am."

She sighed, but nodded. "All right... Are there any clues?"

"Good question. It's a common proverb, four words, referring to a 1598 play by-"

"Curiosity killed the cat," she interrupted, a slow smirk tugging her lips up.

"Well done! The suite is on hold for a Miss. Chloe Sullivan."

She was fairly sure it was coming, but still, it nearly knocked her legs out from under her. "And you said the deposit was paid?" she asked, voice rather quiet.

"In full."

She quirked a brow. "But not the rent?"

"No."

"And if I- _She_... Shows up, she can rent the place immediately?"

"Yes. There are, of course, some papers to sign, but they've already been approved by Wayne Enterprises and so, all that's needed is Miss. Sullivan's suite."

She chewed her lip. "And if she denies the suite, what then?"

"It will still be on hold until she decides to take it."

Chloe shook her head. "But there are obviously more than one other family out there that might need the apartment? I mean-"

"We are under strict orders not to rent the apartment to anyone else, ma'am," she replied sternly before adding in her more than sweet voice, "Can I be of any more help?"

"No... Thanks..."

"No problem. Thank you for contacting Wayne Enterprises, Housing Center. We appreciate and value your cooperation! Have a good day!"

"Yeah, you too." Chloe hung up the phone and then sat back, shaking her head.

Her mouth battled to smile and frown simultaneously. The next time she saw Batman, she wasn't sure if she'd slug him or hug him. It was a toss up.


	15. Chapter XV

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]**  
Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 3,303  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XV**.

When Oliver stepped inside her apartment, she had to do something to get the immediate frown off his face; it spelled all kinds of disappointing news. So she hugged him, giving an extra squeeze, and saying, before he could utter one thing, "What a great surprise! I wasn't expecting you guys out this way…"

She turned then to Victor and AC, giving each of them a hug too and trying to buy herself as much time as possible.

"Hey! Why didn't _I _get a hug?"

Chuckling, Chloe looked at Bart over her shoulder. "Maybe because your arms were full of whatever was left in my fridge!"

He grinned, opening his arms to her. "They're empty now, mamacita!"

Rolling her eyes, she walked back to him and hugged him tight.

"So, how was the latest crime-fighting, save-the-world adventure?" she wondered, looking between her new arrivals.

Victor and AC both tried to answer her question, doing their best to talk over each other. AC was quick to bring up their successful mission to take out an oil rig that was disturbing a pod of dolphins, while Victor questioned how 'successful' it was seeing as they were nearly caught and he had to spend entirely too much time rewiring himself, as well as complaining that computers and water were not a good mix. Personally, Chloe enjoyed their back and forth banter; not only because it was familiar, but because it kept Oliver from saying what he so obviously came to say.

As much as she tried to pay all of her attention to Victor and AC however, Oliver wasn't giving up on his plan.

He continued to stare at her, his expression less than pleased, arms crossed over his chest. "Interesting choice of living, Chloe. It's very…"

"You can say it, Oliver." She smiled knowingly. "It sucks."

Giving a sheepish grin, he nodded, loosening his arms and letting them fall to his sides. With a shake of his head, he wondered, "What are you doing living in this part of town?" He raised a brow. "The crime rate in Gotham is ridiculous, but did you really need a front row seat?"

"Well it certainly comes in handy," she said nonchalantly.

His lips pursed disagreeably. "If you needed money for a better place, I would've gladly—"

She lifted a hand to stop him right there; partly because her pride reared up and partly because she didn't need to hear anymore. "I know." She shrugged. "Trust me, I do. But… I didn't want anybody's help." She raised both her hands when he went to interrupt again. "I wanted to do this on my own. And…" She looked around. "This was the best I could do."

He frowned, casting his eyes around disapprovingly.

Taking a bite out of an apple, Bart whispered loudly against her ear, "This is where you get told."

She glared at him sidelong before beating Oliver to the punch. "You want me to move back to Metropolis, or even Star City," she said, before his mouth had even opened. "_I know_. Both of them would be safer and you're aware of some of the trouble I've gotten into…" She bobbed her head side to side, saying, "Which is a lot more than usual, and yes, that's saying something…" She shook her head to stop him from continuing where she left off. "This place is below me; just driving through you knew that it wasn't safe enough." She imagined herself what he might've seen. "But just a tip, Dolores on the corner of 5th, isn't half bad for a lady of the night."

Victor coughed into his fist to hide his laugh.

Smiling lightly at Oliver, who was raising a brow at her now, she nodded. "I'd be better off in the Watchtower from the safety of my desk… And you're only looking out for me. You want the best for me and you don't think I'm reaching my full potential."

With a slight nod, Oliver grinned, like everything was figured out and he'd gotten his way. "Exactly. So—"

"And maybe you're right, on some things, some level. But…"

His face fell knowingly.

Her brows hiked with meaning. "I'm not leaving… And you can try dragging me out, but you'll only find me back here the second you turn your back." She shrugged. "I like it here. It's not all that safe, it's not much to look at when you're in the thick of it, and I spend entirely too much time looking over my shoulder." Putting her hands on her hips, she lifted her chin and stared at him squarely. "I appreciate your concern; I really do. And I know you're only trying to help. But this is _my _life and I've made my choice." She smiled warmly. "If it makes you feel better, I have a new apartment in a much less crime-active part of the city. It's not exactly a high-rise penthouse with top of the line security, but it'll do..."

He stared at her, eyes narrowed as he thought it over before finally, he nodded. "You're right. I can't make your decisions for you and I can't keep you locked up in a safe haven somewhere…" His mouth quirked. "Although I'd like to…"

She laughed shortly, knowingly. "Thank you though, _really_… I know how difficult it must be for you to think of me back here, especially having seen it first hand, but I _promise _you that it's a lot better than it looks…"

"Highly doubtful, 'Tower," he said, nodding. "But I'm willing to trust your judgment."

Bart gaped. "_What?_" He looked between them. "That's _it?_ Where's the fighting? The screaming? The _grounding _of epic proportions!"

Oliver snorted. "She's a grown woman, Bart. I can't force her to do anything she doesn't want to do."

He scoffed. "Last week you grounded me! You said I was getting out of control and you took back my credit card! I went without burritos a whole _day!_"

He blinked back unapologetically. "You _stole _that credit card out of my wallet because you couldn't wait the _five _minutes it took for me to finish my business call, you cleared out an entire burrito vendor, _and _you stained my new white couch…" He raised a brow. "Would you rather pay the money back and replace my furniture?"

Burt frowned. "No…"

"Good. Then it's settled." He turned his attention back to Chloe. "Now, even if you're not coming back with us, do us a favor and at least have dinner with us…?" He grinned warmly, the same charming and crooked smile on his handsome face that she remembered so well. "Or at least me. I want to be caught up on everything going on here, and that includes your job, your late-night sleuthing, and what you seem to be doing with an old Excelsior classmate of mine…"

Chloe laughed, feeling her face warm up. "Oh, so… You know Bruce then?"

He smirked. "The stories I could tell you…"

Her own smirk greeted him. "You mean the stories you _will _tell me!"

He laughed. "Dinner, Chloe. Be ready at eight." With a wink, he turned on his heel. "C'mon, guys, pack it up."

"Aww, man," Bart complained. He raced around Chloe twice before landing a kiss on her cheek, shooting the guns at her, and promising to pop by for a visit really soon.

Disappointed she hardly had any time to visit with AC or Victor, she shook her head. "You guys need to visit more, or call!"

The likelihood of them being at dinner were slim; Oliver was careful not to have them associated with him too much. She was surprised he'd brought them along in broad daylight in the first place. But if Bart had been right and she hadn't been able to convince Oliver otherwise, she imagined he would have needed their help loading her stuff up to bring back to Metropolis. Or at least to talk her down while the movers did all the work. Still, it was nice seeing them.

"Skype," Victor told her. "You need to stay in contact."

"I will," she promised.

Hugging them all goodbye, she watched them go before closing the door and putting all the locks back into place.

Checking the time, she decided a shower was in order. She had to meet Oliver for dinner in two hours and while she'd had two separate occasions that needed pricey and gorgeous gowns to dine with the rich and infamous, she couldn't say either of them were fit for an evening out with an old friend. But Oliver, being the sometimes extravagant man he was, wouldn't want to meet in some low key restaurant, not when he could offer her better in a city he doubted she'd seen the finer side of, even if he did know she was getting somewhat cozy with the local billionaire.

Funny, she thought, as she went through her wardrobe, she was going out with a handsome, charming, charismatic man tonight, but not one butterfly stirred in her stomach. There wasn't a fluttering in her chest like when Bruce Wayne gave her his undivided attention, or even a familiar clenching of her gut like when she heard the raspy voice of Batman beside her. Oliver was an old friend though, while Bruce was… Well, there wasn't a label to put on that yet. And she wasn't sure she wanted to delve too deep into it looking for one. Maybe, after Oliver shared a few stories, she'd get a better idea of what she wanted that label to be though. Because despite what Alfred told her, she couldn't say for certain that she was ready to walk down that path.

Shaking it off, she told herself to focus. She had a dinner with a friend tonight and Oliver would be asking a whole lot of questions that she might want to be careful in answering. She loved her heroes, but she wasn't so sure her latest on the list of defenders wanted her to spill any word of his existence. She would just have to see how it went before she made any decision on it though.

** oOo**

He couldn't stop staring.

His dinner partner, a work associate that he'd been intending to charm and impress, went completely ignored as he stared across the room at the woman who'd captured his attention.

Her head fell back, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, and that musical laugh of hers drew him right in.

The man across from her grinned, proud to be the source of her amusement, chuckling under his breath and twirling the wine glass by the delicate stem held between his fingers.

Bruce felt a sudden stab of envy. Here he was, sitting across from an older Asian man who wouldn't stop complaining about the food, and there Oliver Queen was entertaining the woman who'd seamlessly taken over Bruce's every stray thought.

"Excuse me, Mr. Mashimoto, but I've just seen an old colleague of mine," he excused, standing from his table and buttoning his suit jacket. "I'll be right back."

Waving him off dismissively, the man flagged down a waitress. "My rice is too dry," he complained.

Forcing himself not to roll his eyes, Bruce crossed the room, jaw ticking as Chloe ducked her head, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, her smile wide and happy. As he drew closer, Oliver noticed him, raising his chin in recognition, his smile widening.

Bruce stopped just behind Chloe's chair, hands wrapping around the back. "Oliver," he said, tipping his head slightly. "I didn't expect to see you in Gotham…" He stared searchingly. "Last I heard, you were pushing papers and butting heads in Metropolis."

Chuckling, Oliver nodded. "I was." He waved a hand to his companion. "But Gotham's recently stolen a good friend of mine. I believe you know Chloe…" His brows hiked meaningfully. "Funny you should come over actually, I was just telling her a few stories from our youth… Back when Excelsior was lucky enough to house the both of us."

Chloe sat back then, her bare shoulders brushing the tips of his fingers. Looking back at him, she smiled. "Knowing you now, I'd never guess how mischievous you were…" Her green eyes danced with mirth. "Are you busy? Or can you sit with us?"

Bruce's eyes wandered from her eyes to her mouth where her white teeth were now biting into her ample pink lip.

He cast a glance back at Mashimoto, who was completely oblivious to him, focused entirely on the bowl of rice they'd brought him to replace what he had deemed _dry_. "A few minutes," he said, before stealing a chair from a nearby table and taking a seat. He looked between Oliver and Chloe before settling his eyes on his old classmate. "How long have you two _known _each other?" he wondered, his voice a little sharper than he meant for it to be.

Oliver grinned amusedly. "She's my ex-girlfriend's cousin," he explained, returning his eyes to Chloe. "We agreed on shared custody, even if Chloe tends to pick up Lois' calls more often than mine."

Chloe laughed lightly. "That's because Lois calls constantly and if I didn't pick up, I have every reason to believe she'd hop a plane down here with the excuse that she was only looking out for me…" She shook her head. "No offense, but you guys are _entirely _too protective."

Bruce raised a brow. "You are in _Gotham_," he reminded. "And I get the feeling your self-preservation skills are a little on the lacking side."

She scoffed, staring at him with wide eyes. "You too?"

He half-smiled before looking over to Oliver. "Did she tell you she was with me when the harbor blew up?"

Oliver nodded. "The yacht, Wayne? You always were flashy."

Ignoring the jab, he instead said, "We headed back in so she could get the story… Traded her high heels in for sneakers and off she went…" He turned his gaze back on Chloe, pensive.

Chloe reached out and tapped his hand. "If I remember correctly, it was your idea to get back… And you, as much as me, wanted to know what happened and how to fix it."

"From the safety of my office," he argued.

She scoffed. "Where's the fun in that?"

Both men laughed deeply at her love of danger.

The ringing of her phone caught her attention then and Chloe turned it over to see Lois' name staring back at her. "If you two will excuse me…" She stood from her seat, smiling amusedly as they both rose with her, like gentlemen. "I'll be back in a few. Powdering my nose," she said, before winking and turning on her heel, answering her phone as she went.

Bruce watched after her, the sensual sway of her hips drawing his eyes. His brows knotted as he took his seat once more.

Oliver stared on at him thoughtfully. "She's not your usual type," he noted, his voice just a little less friendly than before.

Bruce's eyes fell before he finally turned back to his old friend. "She's not yours either."

The blond billionaire stared at him a long, searching moment. Letting out a long sigh, he sat forward. "Listen Bruce, I appreciate a good time as much as anybody. I think the gossip section will prove that." He offered a sarcastic smile. "But Chloe is not the woman you take out for arm candy…" He shook his head. "She's a friend of mine; a very _good _friend. The kind I'd trust my life with. So when I say that she's not your type, what I mean is… Don't hurt her." He raised a brow. "Or all the money in the world won't help you."

Bruce's lips curled at the corners. "Do you always hand out threats for the safety of your friends?"

He drew his wine glass up in his hand. "Are you digging, Bruce?" He smirked. "Worried you might have some competition?"

Was he? Possibly. But he chose not to dwell on that much, seeing as he'd been trying so hard to pretend whatever it was he felt for the blonde, beautiful reporter was only and could only be curiosity.

"Do I?" he asked. Something inside of him deemed it necessary knowledge.

Oliver looked past him to see Chloe was on her way back. "Chloe is a _friend_," he said firmly. "Nothing less, nothing more." He cut his eyes to him. "I respect her in every possible way. And I _expect _you to do the same."

"I respect her," Bruce agreed, standing with him as she approached. As far as he was concerned, Chloe fairly _demanded _respect. It was one feeling he wouldn't question when it came to her. All the other feelings he had toward her weren't so easily distinguished.

She smiled when she met them. "Lois says hi," she offered to Oliver. When she looked at Bruce, she told him, "You don't want to know what she said to you, and to be honest, until you've met her, I'm pretty sure her sense of humor is… _off the wall_, to say the least."

Oliver laughed agreeably.

"It's fine." Bruce reached for her, his hand smoothing along her hip.

She stilled, her eyes rising to his and her amusement fading. As her tongue dabbed her lower lip, he was momentarily distracted. Clearing his throat, he said, "I should let you and Oliver catch up… I have a business associate who's probably wondering where I wandered off to."

"Oh…" She frowned disappointedly. "Well, it was great seeing you. I…" She glanced away, at Oliver, before saying softly. "I meant to call…" She cast her eyes down. "Things have been hectic and I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted…" She raised her gaze to him. "But after I talked to Alfred and…" She smiled. "Oliver filled me in a little…" She tipped her head. "I don't have a lot of free time, but if you're willing, I'd like to spend some of it with you."

Bruce briefly wondered if Oliver had been so encouraging or if she'd simply put together what she wanted from their stories at Excelsior to gather her own opinion of him. Not bothering to ask, and decidedly not looking a gift-horse in the mouth, he nodded. "I'd like that."

She grinned brightly. "Good… I still have to convince your caterer to tell me what exactly he's doing to make those cucumber sandwiches so good."

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Have a good night, Chloe," he said, before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek. He heard her breath catch and his eyes fell closed momentarily. When he stepped back, he nodded farewell to Oliver. "Have a nice visit, Queen."

"I will." He raised his wine glass in goodbye. "If I get a chance, I might stop by Wayne Enterprises before I leave. If I don't, then I hope you'll keep an eye out on our mutual daredevil here…" He nodded his chin toward Chloe. "She has a habit of courting danger."

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"It'd be my pleasure," he assured, giving Chloe's hip one last squeeze before he turned and left.

He felt her eyes on him as he walked away and his mouth quirked.

Maybe Alfred was right after all…

Maybe taking a chance with Chloe was exactly what he needed to do; even if he had absolutely no idea where it might lead. Though he had the encouraging thought that it could only be good for the both of them, and that was what steeled him to the fact that whatever it was he was beginning to feel, he wouldn't push it away or ignore it, no matter how much his previous heartbreak warned him.

[**Next**: Chapter XVI.]


	16. Chapter XVI

**Title**: Guardian Angel  
**Category**: Smallville/Batman [Crossover]  
**Rating**: NC17  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Bruce Wayne  
**Word Count**: 3,260  
**Summary**: Her guardian angel was a dark man with a fetish for rodents. Figures.

**XVI.**

"Okay, tell me again."

Chloe laughed. "Lois! I've already told you twice. They were perfectly nice to each other. Polite even."

"No way. No _way _did Bruce Wayne, billionaire out to steal your heart and lay you down in his dark, silk sheets, wasn't even _slightly _jealous that you were out to dinner with _Oliver Queen!_" she scoffed.

"I'm telling you… They're _friends_. They knew each other from Excelsior…" She shook her head, grinning. "Bruce was having dinner at the same place; he wandered over to say hi. It was all very casual, very friendly…" She shrugged. "Maybe he's not the jealous type or maybe…" She bit her lip.

Lois seemed to perk up. "Or _maybe _he knew there was no competition…" She snapped her fingers. "That _has _to be it. I bet he knew you were all up in the tall, dark and handsome, so you weren't interested in tall, blonde, and leathered."

Chloe laughed. "Sure, fine, that's what it was," she dismissed.

"Look cuz, all I'm saying is… You went out to dinner…"

"Yes."

"With an incredibly good looking billionaire."

"He's handsome," she agreed. "Yes."

"Who _thousands_, if not _millions_, can only _dream _of having dinner with…"

"Who I'm _friends_ with."

"And this _other _billionaire, who obviously wants to take your clothes off with his teeth—"

She snorted, rolling her eyes as a flush warmed her skin.

"Isn't even a _tiny _bit concerned?" She paused. "No. No, I'm not buying it."

"Well, it happened…" She pulled on her sneaker, balancing on one foot and hopping backwards to keep from falling over. "Believe it."

"I'm gonna call Ollie… See what he thinks and what kind of dirt he can give me on this guy."

"Lois…" she said warningly, closing her eyes. "You are _not _doing that."

"What? I can't _casually _ask about my ex's old friend from Excelsior? You think that's crossing a boundary?" she asked with faux innocence.

"Yes. A big one. First, let's just leave Oliver out of it. He's busy enough as it is. Second, you don't need to do any digging on Bruce, all right?" She shook her head. "Things are so casual right now that they're _practically _non existent. So just… Let me…" She blew out an exasperated breath. "Let me do this my way, okay?"

Lois didn't reply right away, but finally she sighed heavily. "Fine, okay… But just remember this conversation if he turns out to be some psycho with multiple-personalities. Remember that your awesome cousin _tried _to look into him for you."

Nodding, she scooped her bag up and walked to her door. "Noted."

"You're ditching me to go sleuthing in the streets of dark, dangerous and dirty, aren't you?"

She grinned. "I am." Closing and locking her door behind her, she assured, "But if it makes you feel better, I'll be moving into a different apartment soon… One not quite as close to the dirty, dangerous part of town."

"But still dark?"

"It's Gotham. It's dark in the daylight," she reminded, jogging down the stairs to the main floor. "I still have to check it out, but from what I'm hearing, these places are brand new and rent controlled…"

"Really?" she asked, a tone of suspicion filling her voice. "And that doesn't _surprise _you?"

"It's a Wayne Enterprises project," she explained. "He bought up a whole bunch of property and now he's renting out the condos and apartments instead of selling them… It's probably going to hit him where it hurts – his bank account – but it doesn't look like he's too worried about that." Her eyes darted left and right as she stepped out into the night air, tugging her hood up over her hair to keep the chill out.

"Wayne Enterprises, huh?" she drawled knowingly. "Is it just me or do you seem to be all wrapped up in this guy? He's around every corner!"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "Hey, I'm not complaining. He's easy enough on the eyes."

"No arguments here," Lois agreed. "All right. I'll stop distracting you from your do-goodery… Call me tomorrow. Or whenever you check out this apartment. I want details, pictures, and preferably the sordid tale of how you and Brucey broke in the new place," she suggested.

Snorting, she bit her lip to keep from grinning. "As always, lovely talking to you, Lo."

"You know it!" she said cheerfully.

"Have a good night."

"You too. Good luck on staying alive, driving a local bat crazy, and cleaning up the streets with your dry wit."

"Appreciated."

Hanging up, she tucked her phone back in her jeans pocket and hurried her steps.

With Joker's loud and attention-getting calling card out there, Chloe noticed that recently there'd be a decline in familiar faces. People, even those out to bring Gotham down to its very lowest, tended to stay indoors when the crazed Joker came calling. But that didn't mean business shut down; it just meant it got a little harder to find.

For the first hour, she did little more than walk around, eyes alert and ears perked for any signs of life. There were a few drug dealers waiting around for their next victim and she waved to Dolores who was hard at work as usual, but any sign of the group previously housed at the harbor wasn't catching her attention.

When she turned down a dark alleyway to check out a warehouse she'd heard whispers about in her walks previous, she paused halfway down. There, on the ground, covered in dirt, was a card.

As she bent low to see it better, she dug it out from where it sat in muddy water, lifting it carefully so it wouldn't bend or tear.

A joker; a ghoulish looking clown on the front, dressed in red, black, white and yellow, with a sinister smile.

She stared at it a long moment, a chill running down her spine.

A door banged open then, making her jump, nearly dropping the card to the ground. She scurried back, hiding in the shadows, her eyes wide, her heart pumping hard in her chest.

In the light beaming from the door, a man stumbled out, crashing down on his back, kicking his feet out to fearfully crawl away. Dirt and garbage littered the ground beneath him, making his escape difficult.

A second man followed him out calmly, a silver gun in hand.

"Please… Please," he pleaded, holding his shaking hands up. "I—I won't tell, man. He—He can trust me. The Joker can trust me. I won't say a word."

"No. You won't." He pulled the trigger; once, twice, three times.

Each bullet landed in a perfect triangle along the man's chest, which heaved forward at the force of each blow. A single drop of blood exited each before becoming a heavy flow that saturated his white t-shirt, blooming bright.

The man stared down at his victim a long moment, lip curled, before finally tucking his gun away in his belt and turning on his heel to return back inside. The door clanged shut behind him, rattling slightly.

She stared a long moment, her heart lodged in her throat. Seconds later, she heard cars start up and she knew that whoever was inside had just left the scene, not wanting to be around if the cops came calling.

Chloe stood on shaky legs and walked toward the man, her knees weak beneath her. Her eyes darted to and fro, almost expecting the door to fly back open. But it didn't and she couldn't hear sirens. She finally dropped down beside the shot man and reached hesitantly out for a pulse. She wondered, with some fear, if her power might react. This was the worst possible place for her to die and she didn't exactly have anybody who could come looking for her in the morgue.

His skin was clammy, or maybe it was her hands.

She held her breath as she searched, nearly shouting in terror as his hand suddenly gripped her wrist tightly.

He stared up at her, eyes bulging from his face. "He's coming—" he gasped, blood seeping from his lips. "He's coming… won't stop... Kill… He'll kill… us… all…"

Chloe stared at him searchingly. "Who? The Joker?" She shook her head. "What do you know? _When _is he coming? _What _is he planning?"

His grip began to loosen around her. "We're all gonna die…" he said, laughing until he coughed on his own blood.

"No, no, keep your eyes open." She pressed a hand to his chest, covering a bullet hole, and willed her power to work. Yes, it was inconvenient and she'd probably have a lot of explaining to do, but not only did she not want this guy to die, but she also needed whatever information he had. It mattered on a much larger scale now. If he knew what the Joker was up to, then she needed him to tell her.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, closing her eyes and searching deep inside her for that spark; that meteor-rock infused life source that could keep this man in the here and now. But it was nowhere; nothing was happening; not even the slightest bit of her power came forth. She opened her eyes to see him, to convey how sorry she was.

As he began to sink back against the wall, his head fell back, eyes staring at her sightlessly. "You're gon' die…"

Those were his last words before his final breath left his lips.

** oOo**

Chloe was shaken. She was hesitant to call the cops, seeing as she knew some of them were on the take. But she couldn't leave this man here, and she knew… She knew what his killer looked like.

Sharp slashes of dark eyebrows atop narrowed, dark eyes. A prominent nose, crooked like it'd been broken more than once. Dark hair, shaved down short. A jagged scar from his right temple that led through his hair. A tattoo on his neck; a spiderweb, how clichéd. And his hand; he shot with his right, a ring on his finger, overly large and gold.

She wouldn't forget him.

But who to tell?

For the first time, she looked up at the sky and wished her winged savior would come down to give her a hand. But Batman was nowhere in sight and her heart ached for it.

She stood, knees wet with the damp ground she'd been kneeling on. She stared at the young man, lifeless and limp, he couldn't have been more than thirty. Sandy hair, brown eyes, five o'clock shadow. He might've been handsome, she thought.

She stepped back, turned on her heel, and started out of the alley. She wouldn't forget him either, she decided. And somehow, one way or another, she would make sure his killer would be brought to justice. Sure, maybe he was in with the wrong people. Maybe he wasn't any better than the person who killed him. But murder was murder.

She fingered the card before tucking it in her jacket pocket.

The Joker and all who followed him were in for a rude awakening.

If the police wouldn't take him down, then Chloe would.

She called the cops when she was two blocks away and said a silent prayer for the family who was about to find out they'd lost a son or a brother or maybe even a father. All of her previous excitement for setting out that night drained away; she might've been honest when she told Oliver that Gotham was growing on her, but that didn't mean the city itself didn't have a lot more growth left to do still. This senseless death stuff was getting to her and her heart ached with what she'd witnessed.

When she arrived home, she realized her hands were stained with blood. A man she didn't even know the name of had died before her eyes and she had his blood on her hands. She almost stumbled over her feet hurrying to the bathroom. As she scrubbed it away in the sink, her skin turned a bright, violent, raw shade of red. She sniffled, unaware that she was even crying, but the tears spilled down her cheeks helplessly.

She slid to her knees, gripping the edge of the sink, and sucked in a deep breath as she held in a sob. This wasn't the first person she'd seen die. It wasn't the first _pointless _death she'd witnessed. But it hurt all the same. It hurt to watch a person's life drain from their eyes.

A tapping at her window drew her attention; her brows furrowed as she turned her head.

A dark shadow fell over the balcony and she rose up from the floor, wiping at her face, sniffling still. She swiped her still wet hands on her jeans and walked to the sliding glass door. She threw back the curtains and stared unsurprised at the large, formidable form of Batman, cape billowing out behind him. Unlatching the door, she swung it wipe and open, stepping back to let him inside.

"You're a little late," she said with a humorless laugh. "Could've used your powers of intimidation a half hour ago…"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stepped back and looked anywhere but at his face.

He followed her inside, silent.

"You know it's funny… I've seen guns, _held _guns, I even know how to shoot one…" She shrugged. "But in somebody else's hands I still freeze. I still… I hold my breath and I hope it doesn't turn in my direction. And that's, I mean, _of course_, everybody has that self-preservation in them. But maybe…" Her brows furrowed and she felt her insides begin to shake; her heart, her lungs, her stomach. "Maybe if I hadn't hesitated or if I'd just made a noise, caught his attention, maybe that man would've gotten away or had a chance to fight back or… _something_." Her breath came quicker then, leaving her in jagged gasps. "But I didn't move." She shook her head, her eyes filling. "I didn't say or do anything. I just kept hoping in my head that he wouldn't see me." She squeezed her eyes closed. "And after, I—I _tried_ to save him. I did. But it wouldn't—I _couldn't_…"

He took a step forward and suddenly she was wrapped in him. His arms wound around her and gathered her up until she was pressed tight to him, her cheek against the cold, unforgiving chest plate of his suit. His utility belt dug into her stomach, but she didn't care. She couldn't find it in her to do much more than slide her arms around his waist and cry. Her fingers furled in his black cape, holding on tight. All the while his hands, covered in thick Kevlar, moved up and down and around in soothing circles along her back, kneading her shoulders, the nape of her neck.

His chin, covered in his cowl, fell to rest on top of her head. "You weren't hurt," he growled, a statement more than a question.

"They were so close… The door flew open and I just crouched. I watched the whole thing. I…" She squeezed her eyes. "I can still see his face. _Both _of their faces…"

His fingers gripped her hair tight, his other arm banding tight around her waist. "It's not safe for you out there."

She snorted. "It's not safe for anybody."

"You're tempting fate."

She sighed. "Always have… Probably always will…"

He sighed, frustrated with her.

"Makes you feel better, I'm checking out that apartment you put on hold for me."

He stilled. "What makes you think I got you an apartment?"

She drew her head back to look at him, her brow lifted. "I can count on one hand the number of people I know here, two of which I work with, so I know their salary isn't enough to put a down payment on an apartment for me…" She raised a hand to wipe at the tears still clinging to her cheeks. "That leaves only two. You and Bruce Wayne…" She stared at him searchingly. "While he has the money, I can't see why he'd do that. _You_, on the other hand, seem pretty adamant that by just walking the streets I'm getting in your way…"

His lips pursed. "You were almost shot tonight."

"I was closer than _usual_," she argued.

Though she couldn't see it, she felt his eyebrow had been raised beneath his cowl.

"Fine. So I should probably be more careful…" She bit her lip, casting her eyes down. "He mentioned the Joker."

"Who?"

"The man who got shot… Before he died, he said the Joker was coming, that he'd kill us all… I think he was shot because they thought he'd get word out or something… I don't know." She shook her head. "Maybe he suggested fleeing the city before the Joker opened a whole new can of explosive, deadly worms…"

His hand was still at her neck, she noticed, one of his fingers absently stroking through her hair. She realized very abruptly that she was in the arms of Batman, emphasis on the _man _part. She felt a sudden pang of guilt. Sure, she and Bruce weren't exactly exclusive and she still had her suspicions about Batman's identity, but that didn't change the fact that some part of her felt a little bit like she was getting entirely too close to this caped crusader.

"You still won't leave?" he wondered; the deep, rough timber of his voice made her stomach tighten.

She stared up at him, chin tilted stubbornly. "Listen, I know I might seem a little fragile, being inches from a dying man does that… But I'm not leaving." She raised her brows meaningfully. "I'm staying and I'm watching this whole thing unfold, and I'll write every single word of it, good and bad."

He ground his teeth, staring into her eyes searchingly. "And if next time they _do _see you hiding in the shadows?"

She swallowed thickly. "Then visit my grave with all your 'I told you so's' but don't start handing them out early." She shook her head. "This isn't my first rodeo. Nothing worth writing about is without its near-death experiences." She offered him a smile. "I've survived this long."

"You weren't in Gotham before."

Her lips twitched agreeably. "I didn't have a winged guardian taking to the skies and watching my back either…"

He looked away. "I won't always be there."

"Which is why I have a tazer," she offered simply.

He growled disagreeably.

"Nothing you say is going to change my mind."

He didn't reply, but he did release her. He walked past her, further into the apartment, and she frowned after him wonderingly. He stopped at her front door, checked the locks, and then returned to the window. "Move out of here," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "I am."

"Tomorrow."

He didn't wait for her reply, instead leaping from her balcony.

She scowled. He always had to have the last word.

Still, she figured he had a point. She would check out the apartment tomorrow, and if it was up to her standards, she'd move in that afternoon. Or maybe the day after; just to get under his skin.

Grinning, she closed and locked the sliding glass door before making her way back to her bedroom. She figured it was as close to a 'last word' she would get, but it was good enough in her books.

[**Next**: XVII.]


End file.
